PG 3337 
08 G72 
1899 
Copv, 1 



PG 3337 
.08 G72 
1899 
Copy 1 



333H 



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THF 

I k k i^j 

STORM 



BY 
OSTRC 



R'Ry 



by 

cx>n stance 

GARNETT 



I'PkmMk 
k 

Chica" 
1899 




Qass. 
Book. 



MODEEN 
PLAYS 



EDITED BY 

R. BRIMLEY JOHNSON 

AND 

N. ERICHSEN 



Authorised Translation 
Alt Rights Reserved 



// 

THE STORM 

BY OSTROVSKY 

TRANSLATED BY 

CONSTANCE GARNETT 



CHICAGO 

CHARLES H. SERGEL COMPANY 

1899 



I qau. S 2, 






u 






INTRODUCTION 

Up to the years of the Crimean War Russia was always 
a strange, uncouth riddle to the European consciousness. 
It would be an interesting study to trace back through 
the last three centuries the evidence of the historical 
documents that our forefathers have left us when they 
were brought face to face, through missions, embassies, 
travel, and commerce, with the fantastic life, as it seemed 
to them, led by the Muscovite. But in any chance record 
we may pick up, from the reports of a seventeenth century 
embassy down to the narrative of an early nineteenth 
century traveller, the note always insisted on is that of all 
the outlandish civilisations, queer manners and customs 
of Europeans, the Russian's were the queerest and those 
standing farthest removed from the other nations'. And 
this sentiment has prevailed to-day, side by side with the 
better understanding we have gained of Russia. Nor 
can this conception, generally held among us, which is 
a half truth, be removed by personal contact or mere 
objective study ; for example, of the innumerable memoirs 
published on the Crimean war, it is rare to find one that 
gives us any real insight into the nature of the Russian . And 
the conception itself can only be amended and enlarged by 
the study of the Russian mind as it expresses itself in its 
own literature. The mind of the great artist, of whatever 
race he springs, cannot lie. From the works of Thackeray 
and George Eliot in England and Turgenev and Tolstoi in 



INTRODUCTION 

Russia, a critic penetrates into the secret places of the 
national life, where all the clever objective pictures of 
foreign critics must lead him astray. Ostrovsky's drama, 
" The Storm," here translated for the English reader, is 
a good instance of this truth. It is a revelation of the old- 
fashioned Muscovite life from the inside, and Ostrovsky 
thereby brings us in closer relation to that primitive life 
than was in the power of Tolstoi or Goncharov, or even 
Gogol to bring us. These great writers have given us 
admirable pictures of the people's life as it appeared to 
them at the angle of the educated Westernised Russian 
mind ; but here in " The Storm " is the atmosphere of 
the little Russian town, with its primitive inhabitants, 
merchants, and workpeople, an atmosphere untouched, 
unadulterated by the ideas of any outside European in- 
fluence. It is the Russia of Peter the Great and 
Catherine's time, the Russian patriarchal family life that 
has existed for hundreds of years through all the towns 
and villages of Great Russia, that lingers indeed to-day 
in out-of-the-way corners of the Empire, though now 
invaded and much broken up by modern influences. It 
is, in fact, the very Muscovite life that so puzzled our 
forefathers, and that no doubt will seem strange to 
many English readers. But the special triumph of " The 
Storm" is that although it is a realistic picture of old- 
fashioned Russian patriarchal life, it is one of the deepest 
and simplest psychological analyses of the Russian soul ever 
made. It is a very deep though a very narrow analysis. 
Katerina, the heroine, to the English will seem weak, and 
crushed through her weakness ; but to a Russian she 
typifies revolt, freedom, a refusal to be bound by the 
cruelty of life. And her attitude, despairing though it seems 

vi 



INTRODUCTION 

to us, is indeed the revolt of the spirit in a land where 
Tolstoi's doctrine of non-resistance is the logical out- 
come of centuries of serfdom in a people's history. 
The merchant Dikoy, the bully, the soft characterless 
lover Boris, the idealistic religious Katerina, Kuligin the 
artisan, and Madame Kabanova, the tyrannical mother, 
all these are true national types, true Russians of 
the changing ages, and the counterparts of these 
people may be met to-day, if the reader takes up 
Tchehov's tales. English people no doubt will find 
it difficult to believe that Madame Kabanova could 
so have crushed Katerina's life, as Ostrovsky depicts. 
Nothing indeed is so antagonistic to English individualism 
and independence as is the passivity of some of the 
characters in "The Storm." But the English reader's 
very difficulty in this respect should give him a clue to 
much that has puzzled Europeans, should help him to 
penetrate into the strangeness of Russian political life, 
the strangeness of her love of despotism. Only in the 
country that produces such types of weakness and tyranny 
is possible the fettering of freedom of thought and act 
that we have in Russia to-day. Ostrovsky's striking 
analysis of this fatalism in the Russian soul will help the 
reader to understand the unending struggle in Russia 
between the enlightened Europeanised intelligence of the 
few, and the apathy of the vast majority of Russians who 
are disinclined to rebel against the crystallised conditions 
of their lives. Whatever may be strange and puzzling in 
" The Storm " to the English mind, there is no doubt that 
the Russians hail the picture as essentially true. The 
violence of such characters as Madame Kabanova and 
Dikoy may be weakened to-day everywhere by the 

vii 



INTRODUCTION 

gradual undermining of the patriarchal family system now 
in progress throughout Russia, but the picture is in 
essentials a criticism of the national life. On this point 
the Russian critic Dobroliubov, criticising " The Storm," 
says: " The need for justice, for respect for personal rights, 
" this is the cry . . . that rises up to the ear of every 
" attentive reader. Well, can we deny the wide applica- 
" tion of this need in Russia ? Can we fail to recognise 
" that such a dramatic background corresponds with the 
" true condition of Russian society ? Take history, think 
" of our life, look about you, everywhere you will find 
"justification of our words. This is not the place to 
" launch out into historical investigation ; it is enough to 
" point out that our history up to the most recent times 
" has not fostered among us the development of a respect 
" for equity, has not created any solid guarantees for 
" personal rights, and has left a wide field to arbitrary 
" tyranny and caprice." This criticism of Dobroliubov's 
was written in 1860, the date of the play ; but we have 
only to look back at the internal history of Russia for 
the last thirty years to see that it too "has not created 
" any solid guarantees for personal rights, and has left 
" a wide field to arbitrary tyranny and caprice." And 
here is Ostrovsky's peculiar merit, that he has in his 
various dramas penetrated deeper than any other of the 
great Russian authors into one of the most fundamental 
qualities of the Russian nature — its innate tendency to 
arbitrary power, oppression, despotism. Nobody has 
drawn so powerfully, so truly, so incisively as he, the type 
of the 'samodour' or 'bully,' a type that plays a lead- 
ing part in every strata of Russian life. From Turgcncv 
we learn more of the reverse side of the Russian char- 

viii 



INTRODUCTION 

acter, its lack of will, tendency to weakness, dreaminess 
and passivity : and it is this aspect that the English find 
it so hard to understand, when they compare the char- 
acters in the great Russian novels with their own idea of 
Russia's formidable power. The people and the nation 
do not seem to correspond. But the riddle may be read 
in the coexistence of Russia's internal weakness and 
misery along with her huge force, and the immense rdle 
she fills as a civilising power. In " The Storm " we have 
all the contradictory elements : a life strongly organised, 
yet weak within; strength and passivity, despotism and 
fatalism side by side. 

The author of "The Storm," Alexander Ostrovsky 
(born in Moscow 1823, died 1886), is acknowledged to be 
the greatest of the Russian dramatists. He has been 
called " a specialist in the natural history of the Russian 
merchant," and his birth, upbringing, family connections 
and vocations gave him exceptional facilities for pene- 
trating into the life of that class which he was the first 
to put into Russian literature. His best period was from 
1850 to 1860, but all his work received prompt and 
universal recognition from his countrymen. In 1859 
Dobroliubov's famous article, "The Realm of Dark- 
ness," appeared, analysing the contents of all Ostrovsky 's 
dramas, and on the publication of " The Storm " in 
1860, it was followed by another article from the same 
critic, "A Ray of Light in the Realm of Darkness." 
These articles were practically a brief for the case of 
the Liberals, or party of Progress, against the official 
and Slavophil party. Ostrovsky's dramas in general 
are marked by intense sombreness, biting humour and 
merciless realism. "The Storm" is the most poetical 

ix 



INTRODUCTION 

of his works, but all his leading plays still hold the 
stage. 

" The Storm " will repay a minute examination by all 
who recognise that in England to-day we have a stage 
without art, truth to life, or national significance. There 
is not a superfluous line in the play : all is drama, natural, 
simple, deep. There is no falsity, no forced situations, no 
sensational effects, none of the shallow or flashy carica- 
tures of daily life that our heterogeneous public demands. 
All the reproach that lives for us in the word theatrical 
is worlds removed from "The Storm." The people who 
like ' farcical comedy ' and social melodrama, and i musical 
sketches ' will find " The Storm " deep, forbidding and 
gloomy. The critic will find it an abiding analysis of a 
people's temperament. The reader will find it literature. 

E. G. 

November, 1898. 



THE STORM 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

Savil Peokofievitch Dikoy, a merchant, and personage of 
imp)ortance in the town. 

Boris Geigorievitch, his nephew, a young man of good educa- 
tion. 

Marfa Ignatievna Kabanova, a rich merchant's widow. 

Tihon Ivanitch Kabanov, her son. 

Katerina, his wife. 

Varvara, sister of Tihon. 

Kuligin, a man of artisan class, a self-taught watchmaker, en- 
gaged in trying to discover the secret of perpetual motion. 

Vania Ktjdriash, a young man, clerk to Dikoy. 

Shapkin, an artisan. 

Feklusha, a pilgrim woman. 

Glasha, a maid servant in the Kabanovs' house. 

An Old Lady of seventy, half mad, ivith Two Footmen. 

Townspeople of both sexes. 

The action takes place in the town of Kalinov, on the banks 
of the Volga, in summertime. There is an interval of 
ten days between the 3rd and 4th acts. All t/ie 
characters except Boris are dressed in old Russian 
national dress. 



ACT I 

Scene I 

A public garden on the steep bank of the Volga ; beyond the 
Volga, a view of the country. On the stage two benches and 
a few bushes. 

Kuligin {sitting on a bench, looking towards the river). 
Kudriash and Shapkin {ivalking up and doivri). 

Kuligin {singing). 

"Amidst the level dales, upon a sloping hillside," . . . 
{ceases singing) Wonderful, one really must say it's 
wonderful ! Kudriash ! Do you know, I've looked 
upon the Volga every day these fifty years and I 
can never get tired of looking upon it. 

Kudriash. 
How's that ? 

Kuligin. 

It's a marvellous view ! Lovely ! It sets my heart re- 
joicing. 

Kudriash. 
It's not bad. 

Kuligin. 

It's exquisite ! And you say " not bad " ! You are tired 
of it, or you don't feel the beauty there is in nature. 
3 



THE STORM act i. sc. i. 

KUDRIASH. 

Come, there's no use talking to you ! You're a genuine 
antique, we all know, a chemical genius. 

Kuligin. 
Mechanical, a self-taught mechanician. 

Kudriash. 
It's all one. [Silence. 

Kuligin (pointing away). 

Look, Kudriash, who's that waving his arms about over 
there ? 

Kudriash. 

There ? Oh, that's Dikoy pitching into his nephew. 

Kuligin. 
A queer place to do it ! 

Kudriash. 

All places are alike to him. He's not afraid of any one ! 
Boris Grigoritch is in his clutches now, so he is 
always bullying him. 

Shapkin. 

Yes, you wouldn't find another bully like our worthy 
Saviol Prokofitch in a hurry ! He pulls a man up for 
nothing at all. 

Kudriash. 

He is a stiff customer. 

Shapkin. 
Old Dame Kabanova's a good hand at that too ! 

4 



act i. sc. i. THE STORM 

KUDRIASH. 

Yes, but she at least does it all under pretence of morality ; 
he's like a wild beast broken loose ! 

Shapkin. 

There's no one to bring him to his senses, so he rages about 
as he likes ! 

Kudriash. 

There are too few lads of my stamp or we'd have broken 
him of it. 

Shapkin. 
Why, what would you have done ? 

Kudriash. 
We'd have given him a good scare. 

Shapkin. 
How'd you do that ? 

Kudriash. 

Why, four or five of us would have had a few words with 
him, face to face, in some back street, and he'd soon 
have been as soft as silk. And he'd never have let 
on to a soul about the lesson we'd given him ; he'd 
just have walked off and taken care to look behind 
him. 

Shapkin. 

I see he'd some reason for wanting to get you sent for a 
soldier. 

Kudriash. 

He wanted to, right enough, but he didn't do it. No, he 
won't get rid of me ; he's an inkling that I'd make 
5 



THE STORM act i. sc. i. 

him pay too dear for it. You're afraid of him, but 
I know how to talk to him. 

Shapkin. 
Oh, I daresay ! 

Kudriash. 

What do you mean by that ? I am reckoned a tough one 
to deal with. Why do you suppose he keeps me on ? 
Because he can't do without me, to be sure. Well, 
then, I've no need to be afraid of him ; let him be 
afraid of me. 

Shapkin. 

Why, doesn't he swear at you ? 

Kudriash. 

Swear at me ! Of course ; he can't breathe without that. 
But I don't give way to him : if he says one word, 
I say ten ; he curses and goes off. No, I'm not going 
to lick the dust for him. 

Kuligin. 

What, follow his example ! You'd do better to bear it 
in patience. 

Kudriash. 

Come, I say, if you're so wise, teach him good manners 
first and then we'll learn ! It's a pity his daughters 
are all children, there's not one grown-up girl among 
them. 

Shapkin. 
What if there were ? 

6 



act i. sc. ii. THE STORM 

KlTDRIASH. 

I should treat him as he deserves if there were. I'm a 
devil of a fellow among the girls ! 

[Dikoy and Boris advance. Kuligin takes off 
his hat 

Shapkin (to Kudriash). 

Let us move off; he'll pick a quarrel with us, very likely. 

[They move off a little. 

Scene II. 
The Same, Dikoy and Boris. 

Dikoy. 

Did you come here to loaf about in idleness ? eh ? Lazy 
good for nothing fellow, confound you ! 

Boris. 
It's a holiday ; what could I be doing at home ? 

Dikoy. 

You'd find work to do if you wanted to. I've said it 
once, and I've said it twice, " don't dare to let me 
come across you " ; you're incorrigible ! Isn't there 
room enough for you ? Go where one will, there 
you are ! Damn you ! Why do you stand there 
like a post ? Do you hear what's said to you ? 

Boris. 
I'm listening,— what more am I to do ? 

7 



THE STORM act i. sc. hi. 

Dikoy {looking at Boris). 

Get away with you ! I won't talk to a Jesuit like you. 
(Going) To come forcing himself on me here ! 

[Spits and exit. 

Scene III 
Kuligin, Boris, Kudriash, and Shapkin. 

Kuligin. 

What have you to do with him, sir ? We can't make it 
out. What can induce you to live with him and put 
up with his abuse ? 

Boris. 

A poor inducement, Kuligin ! I'm not free. 

Kuligin. 

But how are you not free, allow me to ask you. If you 
can tell us, sir, do. 

Boris. 

Why not ? You knew our grandmother, Anfisa Miha- 
lovna ? 

Kuligin. 
To be sure I did ! 

Kudriash. 
I should think we did ! 

Boris. 

She quarrelled with my father you know because he 
married into a noble family. It was owing to that 
that my father and mother lived in Moscow. My 
8 



act i. sc. in. THE STORM 

mother used to tell me that she could hardly endure 
life for three days together with my father's relations, 
it all seemed so rough and coarse to her. 

Kuligin. 

Well it might ! you have to be used to it from the first, 
sir, to be able to bear it. 

Bokis. 

Our parents brought us up well in Moscow, they 
spared no expense. They sent me to the Com- 
mercial Academy, and my sister to a boarding 
school, but they both died suddenly of cholera. We 
were left orphans, my sister and I. Then we heard 
that our grandmother was dead here, and had left a 
will that our uncle was to pay us a fair share of her 
fortune, when we came of age, only upon one 
condition. 

Kuligin. 

And what was that, sir ? 

Boris. 

If we showed a proper respect for his authority. 

Kuligin. 
Then there's no doubt, sir, you'll never see your fortune. 

Boris. 

No, but that's not all, Kuligin ! First he finds fault with 
us to his heart's content, and ends none the less 
with giving us nothing, or some tiny dole. And 
then he'll go making out that it's a great favour, 
and that he ought not to have done even that. 



THE STORM act i. sc. hi. 

KUDRIASH. 

That's just the way the merchants go on among us. 
Besides, if you were ever so respectful to him, who's 
to hinder him from saying you're disrespectful ? 

Boris. 

To be sure. And indeed he sometimes will say : I've 
children of my own, why should I give money away 
to outsiders ? Am I to wrong my own like that ? 

Kuligin. 
It's plain, sir, you're not in luck's way. 

Boris. 

If it were only me, I wouldn't care ! I'd throw it all up and 
go away. But I'm sorry for my sister. He did write 
for her to come too, but mother's relations wouldn't 
let her, they wrote she wasn't well. It frightens me 
to think what the life here would be for her. 

Kudriash. 
Of course. The master's no decent manners at all. 

Kuligin. 

In what capacity do you live with him, sir ; what arrange- 
ment has he made with you ? 

Boris. 
Why, none whatever ; " you live with me," he says, " and 
do what you're told, and your pay shall be what I give 
you," that's to say, in a year's time he'll settle up with 
me as he thinks fit. 

10 






act i. sc. in. THE STORM 

KlJDRIASH. 

That's just his way. Not one of us dare as much as hint 
at a salary, or he storms till he's black in the face. 
" How do you know," he'll say, " what I have in my 
mind to do ? Do you suppose you can see into my 
heart ? Maybe, I shall be so disposed as to give you 
five thousand." It's no use talking to him ! Only 
you may be pretty sure he's never been disposed that 
way in his life. 

Kuligin. 

It's a hard case, sir ! You must try and get the right 
side of him somehow. 

Boris. 

But the point is, Kuligin, that it's impossible. Why, 
even his own children can never do anything to 
please him ; so it's hardly likely I could ! 

Kudriash. 

Who could please him, when his whole life's spent in 
bullying people ? Especially where money's at stake ; 
no accounts are ever settled without storms of 
abuse. Often people are glad to go short of their 
due, if only he'll let them off quietly. Woe to us if 
anyone vexes him in the morning ! He falls foul of 
everyone all day long. 

Boris. 

Every morning my aunt entreats us with tears in her 
eyes : " Don't anger him, friends ! Dear boys, don't 
anger him ! " 

11 



THE STORM act i. so. hi. 

KUDRIASH. 

But you can never avoid it ! If he goes to the bazaar, 
it's all up ! He scolds all the peasants. Even 
if they ask him less than cost price they never get 
off without abuse. And then he's upset for the 
whole day. 

Shapkin. 

He's a bully — there's no other word for him. 

Kudriash. 
A bully ? I should think he is ! 

Boris. 
And what's fatal is if some man offends him, whom he 
daren't be rude to. Then all his household have to 
look out for themselves ! 

Kudriash. 
Bless my soul ! That was a joke though. Didn't that 
hussar let him have it on the Volga, at the ferry ! 
Oh, a lovely shindy he kicked up afterwards, too. 

Boris. 
Ah, and didn't his family suffer for it ! Why, for a fort- 
night after we were all hiding away in the attics and 
cupboards. 

Kuligin. 

Surely that's not the folk coming back from vespers ? 

[Several persons pass in the background. 

Kudriash. 
Come on, Shapkin, let's get a drink! It's no good 
stopping here. [They bow and exeunt. 

12 



act i. sc. in. THE STORM 

Boris. 

Oh, Kuligin, it's awfully hard here for me who've not 
been used to it. Everyone seems to look with un- 
friendly eyes at me, as though I were not wanted 
here, as though I were in their way. I don't under- 
stand the ways here. I know this is truly Russia, my 
own country, but still I can't get used to it. 

Kuligin. 
And you never will get used to it, sir. 

Boris. 
Why? 

Kuligin. 

They're a coarse lot, sir, in our town, a coarse lot ! 
Among the working people, sir, you'll find nothing 
but brutality and squalid poverty. And we've no 
chance, sir, of ever finding our way out of it. For 
by honest labour we can never earn more than a 
crust of bread. And everyone with money, sir, tries 
all he can to get a poor man under his thumb, so as 
to make more money again out of his working for 
nothing. Do you know the answer your uncle, 
Saviol Prokofitch, made to the provost? The 
peasants were always coming to the provost with 
complaints that your uncle never paid one of them 
fairly according to agreement. The provost said to 
him at last: "Look here," says he, "Saviol Prokofitch, 
you must pay the peasants what's fairly owing to 
them ! Every day they come to me with some com- 
plaint ! " Your uncle slapped the provost on the 
shoulder, and says he : " It's not worth while, your 
13 



THE STORM act i. so. hi. 

Worship, for you and me to waste our breath over 
such petty details ! I have to do with numbers of 
peasants in the course of the year ; you can under- 
stand, if I pay them a paltry farthing short, every 
man of them, it mounts up to thousands, and a 
capital thing too for me ! " Think of that, sir ! 
And the way they treat one another too, sir ! They 
injure each other's trade all they can, and that not 
so much from self-interest, as from envy. They are 
always at feud with one another. They entertain in 
their grand mansions drunken attorneys' clerks, 
wretched creatures, sir, that hardly look like human 
beings. And they, for a small tip, will cover sheets 
of stamped paper with malicious quibbling attacks on 
their neighbours. And then there's a lawsuit com- 
mences between them, sir, and no end to the worry 
and fret. They bring it before the court here, and go 
off to the chief town, and there everyone in court 
is on the look-out for them and they clap their 
hands with glee when they see them. Words do not 
take long, but deeds are not soon done. They are 
dragged from court to court, they are worn out with 
delays ; but they are positively delighted at that ; 
it's just that they want. " I've lost a lot of money," 
one will say, " but it's cost him a pretty penny too ! " 
I did try to put it all into verse. . . . 

Boris. 
Why, do you make verse ? 

KULIGTN. 

Yes, sir, in the old-fashioned style. I have read 
Lomonosov and Derzhavin. Lomonosov was a 
14 



act i. sc. in. THE STORM 

deep thinker, an investigator of nature. . . . And 
he was one of us plain working folk too. 

Boris. 
You should write. That would be interesting. 

Kuligin. 

How could I, sir ! They'd tear me to pieces, they'd skin 
me alive. Even as it is, sir, I have had to pay for 
my chattering ; but I can't help it, I love to speak 
my mind freely. I meant to say something about 
their family life, sir, but we'll talk of that some other 
time. There's plenty to tell about that too. 

[Enter Feklusha and another woman. 

Feklusha. 

De-lightful, my dear, de-lightful ! Divinely beautiful ! 
But what's the use of talking ! You live in the 
Promised Land, simply ! And the merchant gentry 
are all a devout people, and famed for many a 
virtue ! liberality and much almsgiving ! I am well 
content, my good soul, full to the brim of content ! 
For their liberality to us will their abundance be 
greatly increased, especially in the house of Kabanova. 

[Exeunt 
Boris. 
Kabanova ? 

Kuligin. 

A fanatical hypocrite, sir. She gives to the poor, but her 
own household she worries to death. (Silence.) All 
I want, sir, is to find out the secret of perpetual 
motion ! 

15 



THE STORM act i. sc. iv. 

Boris. 
Why, what would you do ? 

KULIGIN. 

How can you ask, sir ! Why, the English offer millions 
for it. I should use all the money for public pur- 
poses, — we want to provide work for the working 
people. Here they have hands to work, and no work 
to do. 

Boris. 

And you hope to discover perpetual motion ? 

KULIGIN. 

Not a doubt, I shall, sir! I have only to scrape up 
enough money for models. Good-bye, sir ! [Exit 

Scene IV 

Boris (alone). 

I haven't the heart to disillusion him! What a good 
fellow ! He dreams and is happy. But I, it seems, 
must waste my youth in this wretched hole. I 
was utterly crushed before, and now this madness 
creeping into my mind ! So suitable ! me give 
myself up to tender sentiments ! Trampled upon, 
broken-spirited, and as if that's not enough, in my 
idiocy I must needs fall in love ! And of all people 
in the world ! With a woman, whom I may never 
have the luck to speak a word to. (Silence.) But 
for all that, I can't get her out of my head, try as 
16 



act i. sc. v. THE STORM 

I will. Here she is ! Coming with her husband, 
oh ! and the mother-in-law with them ! Ah, what 
a fool I am! I must snatch a look at her round 
the corner, and then home again. 
[Exit. From the opposite side, enter Mme. Kaba- 
nova, Kabanov, Katerina and Varvara. 

Scene V 

Madame Kabanova, Kabanov, Katerina and 
Varvara. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

If you care to listen to your mother, you'll do as I have 
told you, directly you get there. 

Kabanov. 
How could I possibly disobey you, mother ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Young folks show little respect to their elders, nowadays. 

Varvara (to herself). 
Not respect you, my dear ? That's likely ! 

Kabanov. 

I think, mamma, I never depart a hairsbreadth from your 
will. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

I might believe you, my son, if I hadn't seen with my 
own eyes and heard with my own ears how little 
reverence parents receive nowadays from children ! 
b 17 



THE STORM act i. so. v. 

They might at least remember all the sufferings a 
mother has to put up with for her children. 

Kabanov. 
Mamma, I. . . . 

Mme. Kabanova. 

If the mother that bore you does at times say a word 
that wounds your pride surely you might put up 
with it ! Hey, what do you think ? 

Kabanov. 

But, mamma, when have I not put up with anything 
from you ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 

The mother's old, and foolish, to be sure ; you young 
people must not be too exacting with us old fools. 

Kabanov {sighs, aside). 

Oh, merciful Heavens ! {To his mother) We should 
never dare think such a thing for a moment, 
mamma ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

It's out of love that parents are severe with you, out of 
love they scold even — they're always thinking how 
to train you in the right way. To be sure, that's 
not in favour nowadays. And children go about 
among folks proclaiming that their mother's a scold, 
that their mother won't let them stir, that she's the 
plague of their life. And if — Lord save us — some 
word of hers doesn't please her daughter-in-law, 
then it's the talk all over the place, that the mother- 
in-law worries her to death. 
18 



act i. sc. v. THE STORM 

Kabanov. 
You don't mean that anyone talks about you, mamma ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 

I haven't heard so, my son, I haven't ; I don't want to tell 
a lie about it. If I had, indeed, I shouldn't be talk- 
ing to you like this, my dear. (Sighs) Ah, sin is a 
heavy burden ! Sin is never far off ! Something said 
goes to the heart, and there, one sins, one gets angry. 
No, my son, say what you like about me, there's no 
forbidding anyone to talk ; if they don't dare before 
one's face, they'll do it behind one's back. 

Kabanov. 
May my tongue wither up and . . . 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Hush, hush, don't swear ! It's a sin ! I've seen plain 
enough for a long time past that your wife's dearer 
to you than your mother. Ever since you were 
married, I don't see the same love for me that I did 
in you. 

Kabanov. 

In what way do you see me changed, mamma ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 
In everything, my son ! When a mother doesn't see a 
thing with her eyes, her heart's so sensitive she can 
feel it with her heart. Or maybe it's your wife sets 
you against me, I can't say. 

Kabanov. 
Oh no, mamma ! how can you say so, really ? 

19 



THE STORM act l sc. v. 

Katerina. 

I look upon you as I would on my own mother, and 
indeed Tihon loves you too. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

You might hold your tongue, I should think, till you're 
asked a question. You've no need to defend him, 
young madam, I'm not going to hurt him, no fear ! 
He's my son too, let me tell you ; don't you forget 
it ! What do you want to fire up and display your 
feelings before folks for ! That we may see you love 
your husband ? We know that, we know that, you 
show off before everyone. 

Varvara (to herself). 
A nice place she's pitched on to read us a sermon ! 

Katerina. 

You have no need to say that of me, mamma. I am just 
the same before people, as I am by myself. I make no 
show of anything. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

And I'd no intention of speaking about you at all, but it 
happened to come up. 

Katerina. 
Even so, why need you attack me ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 
My, what a stuck-up thing she is ! Here she's in a huff 
directly ! 

20 



act i. sc. v. THE STORM 

Katerina. 
No one likes to put up with unjust blame. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
I know, I know my words are not to your liking, but that 
can't be helped. I'm not a stranger to you, it makes 
my heart grieve to see you. I've seen for a long 
time past that you want your own way. Well, well, 
you've only to wait a bit, you'll have it all your own 
way when I'm dead and gone. Then to be sure you 
can do as you please, there'll be no elders then to 
look after you. And, maybe, you will think of me 
then. 

Kabanov. 

But we pray God night and day for you, mamma, that 
God may grant you health, and every blessing and 
success in all you do. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Come, give over, please. I daresay you did love your 
mother, while you were a bachelor. But you've no 
thoughts for me now you've a young wife. 

Kabanov. 
The one doesn't hinder the other. A wife is something 
different, but for my mother I have a reverence quite 
apart. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Then would you give up your wife rather than your 
mother ? No, that I'll never believe. 

Kabanov. 
But why should I give up either ? I love both. 

21 



THE STORM act i. sc. v. 

Mme. Kabaxova. 
Oh, I daresay, I daresay, you may talk away ! I see plain 
enough that I'm a hindrance to you. 

Kabaxov. 
You must think as you please, it's for you to decide in 
everything. Only I can't comprehend why I was 
ever bom into the world so unlucky as not to be 
able to please you anyhow. 

Mme. Kabaxov a. 
What do you mean by whimpering like a sick child ! A 
pretty husband, upon my word ! You should just 
see yourself! Do you suppose your wife will fear 
you after that ? 

Kabaxov. 

Why should she fear me ? I'm content, if she loves me. 

Mme. Kabaxova. 
Why should she fear you ! Why should she fear you ! 
What do you mean ? Why, you must be crazy ! If 
she doesn't fear you, she's not likely to fear me. A 
pretty state of confusion there would be in the house ! 
Why, you're living with her in lawful wedlock, aren't 
you? Or does the law count for nothing to your 
thinking ? If you do harbour such fools' notions in 
your brain, you shouldn't talk so before her anyway, 
nor before your sister, that's a girl still. She'll have 
to be married too ; and if she catches up your silly 
talk it's her husband will thank us afterwards for the 
lessons we've taught her. You see how little sense 
you've got, and yet you want to be independent and 
live as you like. 

22 



act i. sc. v. THE STORM 

Kabanov. 

But indeed, mamma, I don't want to be independent. 
How ever could I be independent ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

So, to your thinking then, kindness is all that's needed 
with a wife ? Mustn't even scold her then, or 
threaten her ? 

Kabanov. 

But, indeed, mamma. . . . 

Mme. Kabanova {hotly). 

Wait till she sets up a lover. . . . Hey ! But I daresay 
that's no consequence either, to your thinking? 
Hey ? Come, speak ? 

Kabanov. 
But, mercy on us, mamma. . . . 

Mme. Kabanova (perfectly coolly). 

Fool ! (Sighs) What's the use of talking to a fool ! it's 
simply a sin ! (Silence) I'm going home. 

Kabanov. 

We'll come directly too ; we'll only take one or two more 
turns on the parade. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Very well ; do as you like, only mind you don't keep me 
waiting ! You know I don't like that. 
23 



THE STORM act l so. vi. 

Kabanov. 
Oh no, mamma ! God forbid ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Mind you don't then ! [Goes. 

Scene VI 
The Same, except Mme. Kabanova. 

Kabanov. 

There, you see how I always catch it from mamma on your 
account ! A nice sort of life I lead ! 

Katerina. 
Is it my fault ? 

Kabanov. 

I don't know whose fault it is. 

Varvara. 
Is it likely you would know ? 

Kabanov. 

She used to keep on at me, "You must get a wife, you 
must get a wife, I'm longing to see you a married 
man." And now she worries my life out, and gives 
me no peace — all on your account. 

Varvara. 

Well, it's not her fault ! Mother attacks her, and you 
too. And then you say you love your wife. It 
makes me sick to look at you. {Turns away.) 
24 



act i. sc. vi. THE STORM 

Kabanov. 

Talk away ! What am I to do ? 

Varvara. 

Mind your own business — hold your tongue, if you can't 
do anything better. Why do you stand there shilly 
shallying? I can see by your face what's in your 
mind. 

Kabanov. 
Why, what? 

Varvara. 

What ? — Why, that you want to go in and have a drink 
with Saviol Prokofitch. Eh ? isn't that it ? 

Kabanov. 
You've hit it, old girl. 

Katerina. 

Come back quickly, Tihon dear, or mamma will be scold- 
ing again. 

Varvara. 

Yes, indeed, you must look sharp, or you'll know what to 
expect. 

Kabanov. 

I should think I do ! 

Varvara. 

We've no great desire to get into a row for your sake 
either. 

Kabanov. 
I'll fly. Wait for me! [Goes. 

25 



THE STORM act i. sc. vil 

Scene VII 

Katerina and Varvara. 

Katerina. 
So you are sorry for me, Varia ? 

Varvara {looking away). 
Of course, I am. 

Katerina. 

Then you love me, don't you ? (Kisses her warmly.) 

Varvara. 
Love you ? Of course. 

Katerina. 

Thank you! you are so sweet, I love you dearly. 
(Silence) Do you know what I'm think ing ? 

Varvara. 
What? 

Katerina. 

What a pity people can't fly ! 

Varvara. 
I don't know what you mean. 

Katerina. 

What a pity people can't fly like birds. Do you know I 
sometimes fancy I'm a bird. When one stands on a 
high hill, one feels a longing to fly. One would take 
a little run, throw up one's arms, and fly away! 
Couldn't we try it now? (Makes as though she 
would run.) 

26 



act i. sc. vii. THE STORM 

Varvara. 

What will you make up next ? 

Katerina (sighs). 

How I used to love play and frolic ! But in your house 
I'm growing old and spiritless. 

Varvara. 
Do you suppose I don't see it ? 

Katerina. 

How different I used, to be ! I lived without a care in 
my heart, as free as a bird. Mother adored me, 
dressed me up like a doll, and never forced me to 
work; I could do just as I liked. Do you know 
how I passed my days as a girl? I'll tell you. I 
used to get up early ; if it was summer I used to go 
to the spring, and bathe, and bring back water with 
me, and water all the flowers in the house, every one of 
them. Then mother and I used to go to church, and all 
the pilgrim women — our house was simply full of pil- 
grims and holy women. We used to come back from 
church, and sit down to some work, often embroidery 
in gold on velvet, while the pilgrim women would 
tell us where they had been, what they had seen, 
and the different ways of living in the world, or else 
they would sing songs. And so the time would pass 
till dinner. Then the older women lay down for a 
nap, while I would run about in the garden. Then 
evensong, and in the evening, stories and singing 
again. Ah, those were happy days ! 
27 



THE STORM act i. sc. vii. 

Varvara. 

But it's pretty much the same with us, if you come to 
that. 

Katerina. 

Yes, but here one feels somehow in a cage. And how 
passionately I loved being in church ! It was like 
stepping into Paradise, and I saw no one and had no 
thought of time and did not hear when the service was 
over. It was j ust as if it were all in one second. Mother 
used to say that often everyone looked at me and won- 
dered what had come over me ! And you know, on 
a sunny day, such a column of light streamed down 
from the golden cupola, and a sort of mist moving 
in the light, like smoke, and at times I seemed to see 
angels flying and singing in that bright light. And 
sometimes, dear girl, I would get up at night — we 
had lamps always burning all over our house, — and 
fall down in some corner and pray till morning. Or 
I would go out into the garden early in the morning, 
when the sun was just rising, fall on my knees 
and pray and weep, and not know myself what I 
prayed and wept for; and so they would find me 
sometimes. And what I was praying for then, what 
I besought God for — I couldn't say. I wanted 
nothing, I had enough of everything. And what 
dreams I used to have, dear Varia, what lovely 
dreams ! Golden temples or gardens of some 
wonderful sort, and voices of unseen spirits singing, 
and the sweet scent of cypress and mountains and 
trees, not such as we always see, but as they are 
painted in the holy pictures. And sometimes I 
28 



act i. sc. vii. THE STOHM 

seemed to be flying, simply flying in the air. I 
dream sometimes now, but not often, and never 
dreams like those. 

Varvara. 
Why, what then ? 

Katerina {after a pause), 

I shall die soon. 

Varvara. 
What nonsense ! 

Katerina. 

No, I know I shall die. Oh, dear girl, something not 
good is happening with me, something strange. It 
has never been like this with me before. There is 
something in me so incomprehensible. As though 
I were beginning to live again, or ... I don't know 
what. 

Varvara. 

What is the matter with you ? 

Katereya (taking her hand), 

I'll tell you, Varia; some dreadful sin is coming upon 
me ! I have such a terror in my heart, such terror ! 
As though I am standing on the edge of a precipice 
and someone is pushing me in, and I have nothing 
to cling to. [Clutches her head in her hand, 

Varvara. 

What's wrong with you ? You can't be well. 

Katerina. 
Yes, I am well. ... It would be better if I were ill, it's 

29 



THE STORM act i. sc. vii. 

worse as it is. A dream keeps creeping into my 
mind, and I cannot get away from it. I try to 
think — I can't collect my thoughts, I try to pray — 
but I can't get free by prayer. My lips murmur the 
words but my heart is far away ; as though the evil 
one were whispering in my ear, and always of such 
Wicked things. And such thoughts rise up within 
me, that I'm ashamed of myself. What is wrong 
with me? There's some trouble, something before 
me ! At night I do not sleep, Varia, a sort of 
murmur haunts me; someone seems speaking so 
tenderly to me, as it were cooing to me like a dove. 
And now I never dream, Varia, those old dreams, of 
trees and mountains in Paradise ; but it's as though 
someone were clasping me passionately — so passion- 
ately and leading me, and I follow him, I follow. . . . 

Varvara. 
Well ? 

Katerina. 

But what things I am saying to you, a young girl like you. 

Varvara {looking about her). 
You can tell me ! I'm worse than you. 

Katerina. 
Oh what am I to tell you ? I'm ashamed. 

Varvara. 
You've no need ! Tell away. 

Katerina. 
I am stifling, stifling at home, I should like to run away. 
And the fancy comes to me that if I were my own 
30 



act i. sc. vii. THE STORM 

mistress, I would float down the Volga now, in a 
boat, to the singing of songs, or I would drive right 
away clasped close. . . . 

Varvara. 
But not with your husband. 

Katerina. 
How do you know that ? 

Varvara. 
As if I didn't know ! 

Katerina. 

Ah, Varia, there is sin in my heart ! Alas, how often 
I have wept, I have done everything I can think of! 
I can't get free from this sin. I can't escape. Varia, 
it is wicked, it is a fearful sin — I love someone else ! 

Varvara. 

I'm not likely to be hard upon you ! I've sins enough of 
my own. 

Katerina. 

What am I to do ? I'm at the end of my strength, where 
can I find help. I'm so wretched, I shall do some- 
thing dreadful. 

Varvara. 

Mercy on us ! what is coming to you ! Come, wait a bit, 
brother's going away to-morrow, we'll think of some- 
thing ; maybe, you'll be able to see each other. 

Katerina. 

No, no, that must not be ! What are you saying ! God 
forbid ! 

31 



THE STORM act i. sc. viii. 

Varvara. 
Why are you frightened ? 

Katerlka. 
If I were ouce to see and speak with him, I should run 
away from home, I would not go back home for 
anything in the world. 

Varvara. 
Oh well, wait a little, and then we shall see. 

Katerina. 
No, no, don't talk to me, I don't want to hear ! 

Varvara. 
Why wear yourself out for nothing? You may die of 
grieving, do you suppose they'll be sorry for you ? 
Come, wait a bit. Why, what's the good of making 
yourself miserable? 

[Enter the Old Lady ivith a stick and hvo footmen 
in three-cornered hats behind her. 

Scene VIII 

The same and the Old Lady. 

Old Lady. 
Hey, my pretty charmers ? What are you doing here ? 
Waiting for young fellows, waiting for your beaus ? 
Are your hearts merry ? Merry are they ? Are you 
pleased and proud of your beauty ? That's where 
beauty leads to. (Points to the Volga) Yes, yes, to 
the bottomless pit ! (Varvara smiles.) What, laugh- 
32 



act i. sc. ix. THE STORM 

ing ? Let not your heart rejoice ! {Knocks with her 
stick) You will burn all of you in a fire unquench- 
able. You will boil in the lake of flaming pitch. 
(Going) That is whither beauty leads you ! [Goes, 

Scene IX 

Katerina and Varvara. 

Katerina. 
Ah, how she frightened me ! I'm trembling all over, as 
if she were foretelling something for me. 

Varvara. 
Her curse fall on her own head, the old witch ! 

Katerina. 
What was it she said, eh ? what did she say ? 

Varvara. 
It was all rubbish. It's silly to listen to her raving. She 
foretells evil like that to everyone. She was a sinner 
all her life from her youth up. You should hear the 
stories they tell about her. So now she's afraid of 
death. And she must try and frighten others with 
what she dreads herself. Why even the little street 
boys hide away from her ; she shakes her stick at 
them and growls (mimicking) " you'll all burn in fire 
unquenchable ! " 

Katerina (shrinking). 
Ah, ah, stop ! I can't bear it ! 

Varvara. 
There's nothing to be frightened of! An old fool. . . . 
c 33 



THE STORM act i. sc. ix. 

Katerina. 
I am afraid, terribly afraid ! I seem to see her all the 
while before us. [Silence. 

Varvara (looking round). 
I say, brother doesn't come, and yonder there's a storm 
coming up. 

Katerina (in terror). 
A storm ! Let us rim home ! Make haste ! 

Varvara. 
Why, are you crazy? How can you show yourself at 
home without my brother ? 

Katerina. 
No, let us go home ! Never mind him ! 

Varvara. 
But why are you so awfully frightened ? The storm's a 
long way off yet. 

Katerina. 
If it's so far off, we'll wait then a little, if you like ; but 
really it would be better to go. Yes, we'd better go 

home. 

Varvara. 

But if anything were to happen, you know, you'd be no 
safer at home. 

Katerina. 

No, but still, it's better there, it's quieter ; at home one 
can turn to the holy pictures and pray to God ! 

Varvara. 
I didn't know you were so afraid of a thunderstorm. I'm 
not afraid, you see. 

34 



act ii. sc. i. THE STORM 

Katerina. 

Don't talk of not being afraid ! Everyone must be afraid. 
What is dreadful is not it's killing you, but that death 
may overtake you all of a sudden, just as you are, 
with all your sins, with all your erring thoughts. 
I have no fear of death, but when I think that I 
shall be brought all at once before the face of God 
just as I am here, with you, after this talk, — that's 
what is awful! What I had in my heart! What 
wickedness! fearful to think of! {Thunder.) Ah! 

\Enter Kabanov, 
Varvara. 

Here comes my brother. (To Kabanov) Hurry up ! 

[Thunder, 
Katerina. 

Ah ! Make haste ! Make haste ! 



ACT II 

Scene I 

A room in the house of the Kabanovs. 

Glasha (packing up clothes in a bundle). 

Enter Feklusha. 

Feklusha. 

Dear girl, always at work! What are you doing, my 
dear? 

35 



THE STORM act ii. sc. i. 

Glasha. 
I'm getting the master's things ready for his journey. 

Feklusha. 
Is he going away then — the light of our eyes ? 

Glasha. 
Yes. 

Feklusha. 

Is he going to be away long, my dear ? 

Glasha. 
No, not long. 

Feklusha. 

Well, God speed him on his way! And say, will the 
young mistress do a wail for his going or not ? 

Glasha. 
That I can't say, really. 

Feklusha. 
But she does wail at times, I suppose ? 

Glasha. 
Never heard of her doing it. 

Feklusha. 

Well now, my dear, if there's one thing I love, it's to hear 
a wail well done ! {Silence.) And mind you keep a 
sharp look out, my girl, on the beggar woman below, 
that she don't lay her hands on anything. 

Glasha. 
Who's to tell the rights and wrongs of it with you begging 

36 



act h. sc. i. THE STORM 

pilgrims, you all speak ill of one another. Why can't 
you live and let live? I should have thought you 
wandering women get plenty in our house all of you, 
and yet you must always be quarrelling and nagging 
at each other. Aren't you afraid of such sin ? 

Feklusha. 

One can't be without sin, my good girl ; we live in the 
world. I'll tell you what, my dear; you, simple 
folk, are tempted of one devil, but we pilgrim folk 
are beset, one with six, another with twelve devils ; 
and here we have to struggle against all at once. 
It's a hard fight, my dear, a hard fight ! 

Glasha. 
Why is it you have such a lot ? 

Feklusha. 

Ah, my good girl, that comes of the hatred the evil one 
has for us, because we lead a life of such holiness. 
But I can't say, my dear, that I'm one to gossip ; 
that's not a sin of mine. One failing I have, truly ; 
I know myself what it is. I love dainty eating. 
Well, well, the Lord in His mercy provides according 
to my weakness. 

Glasha. 

And have you travelled far in your wanderings, Feklusha? 

Feklusha. 

No, my dear, owing to my weakness, I've never gone far 
away ; but many a thing I've heard. They do say, 
my dear, there are countries where there are no Tsars 
37 



THE STORM act ii. sc. i. 

of the true faith, but Sultans rule the lands. In one 
land there is the Sultan Mahnoot the Turk on the 
throne — and in another the Sultan Mahnoot the 
Persian. And they rule, my good girl, over all men, 
and whatever they decree it's always unrighteous. 
And they cannot, my dear, judge righteously in any 
one thing, such is the ban laid upon them. We have 
a just law, but they, my dear, an unjust law. 
Everything that is one way in our land is the very 
opposite in theirs. And all the judges with them, 
in their countries, are unjust too, so that, do you 
know, my girl, they even write in their petitions : 
" judge me, unjust judge ! " And there is a country 
too where all the men have the heads of dogs. 

Glasha. 
How do they come to have dogs' heads ? 

Feklusha. 

For their infidelity. I am going off on my rounds among 
the merchant gentry, my dear, to see if there won't 
be some alms for poverty. Good-bye for the 
present ! 

Glasha. 

Good-bye ! {Exit Feklusha.) Only fancy that there are 
lands like that ! There's no end to the marvels in 
the world. And here we sit at home and know 
nothing. A good thing it is to be sure, that there 
are pious folk ; from time to time one hears what is 
being done in the light of day ; if it weren't for them, 
we should live and die in our foolishness. 

[Enter Katerina and Varvara. 
38 



act ii. sc. ii. THE STORM 

Scene II 
Katerina and Varvara. 

Varvara (to Glasha). 

Carry the bundles down to the chaise, the horses are at 
the door. (To Katerina) You were married off young, 
and you never had any fun when you were a girl ; 
and so your heart is restless still. [Glasha goes out 

Katerina. 
And it always will be. 

Varvara. 
Why? 

Katerina. 

I have been like that from my birth up, full of fire ! I 
was only six years old, when do you know what I 
did ? They offended me somehow at home, — it was 
in the evening and quite dark — I ran away to the 
Volga, and got into a boat, and pushed it off from 
the bank. They found me next morning, ten miles 
down the river. 

Varvara. 

Really ! And were there any men in love with you, as 
a girl ? 

Katerina. 
Of course there were ! 

Varvara. 

Well ? And didn't you care for anyone ? 

Katerina. 
No, I only laughed at them. 

39 



THE STOHM act ii. sc. n. 

Varvara. 
And you know, Katia, you don't love Tihon. 

Katerina. 
Oh, yes, I do ! I'm dreadfully sorry for him. 

Varvara. 

Oh, no, you don't. If you're sorry for him you don't 
love him. And indeed you've no great reason to, I 
must own. And it's no good your being so close 
with me ! I noticed a long while ago, that you were 
fond of some one. 

Katerina {with dismay). 

How did you notice it ? 

Varvara. 

How absurd you are! I'm not a baby! Well, I'll tell 
you the first sign I knew by ; directly you see him, 
your whole face is transformed. {Katerina drops 
her eyes.) And that's not all. . . . 

Katerina {still looking down). 

Well, whom then ? 

Varvara. 

Why, you know, what's the use of telling his name ? 

Katerina. 
No, tell it ! Tell his name ! 

Varvara. 
Boris Grigoritch. 

Katerina. 

Yes, yes, Varia ! Only mind, Varia, for pity's sake. . . . 

40 



act ii. sc. ii. THE STORM 

Varvara. 

What nonsense! You'd better mind, and not betray 
yourself in any way. 

Katerina. 
I can't deceive, I don't know how to conceal anything. 

Varvara. 

But there's no doing without deceit ; think where you're 
living! Our whole house rests on it! I wasn't 
fond of lying either, but I learnt the trick, when I 
had to. I was out walking yesterday, and so I saw 
him and had a few minutes talk with him. 

Katerina (after a short silence, looking down). 

Well? 

Varvara. 

He sent greetings to you. He was sorry, he said, that he 
never meets you. 

Katerina (her head still more bent down). 
As if we could meet ! And what would be the use. . . . 

Varvara. 
He is so sad and unhappy. . . . 

Katerina. 

Don't speak to me of him, for goodness' sake, don't speak 
of him ! I don't want to know him even. I will 
love my husband : Tisha, my dear one, no one shall 
ever take your place ! I did not want to think of 
him, you tempt me. 

41 



THE STORM act ii. sc. ii. 

Varvara. 
All right, don't think of him ; no one compels you to. 

Katerina. 

You have no mercy on me ! You say : don't think of 
him, and you mention him yourself! Do you sup- 
pose I want to think of him ; but what can I do, 
when I can't get him out of my mind ? Whatever 
I try to think, he seems always standing before my 
eyes. And I try to be different, and I can't. Do 
you know, last night, the evil one tempted me again. 
I was almost walking straight out of the house. 

Varvara. 

You are such a fantastical creature, God bless you! 
What I think is : one should do what one likes, 
only be sure it's kept dark ! 

Katerina. 

I don't like that. What good can come of it ! I had 
much better bear it as long as I can bear it. 

Varvara. 
And when you can't bear it, what will you do ? 

Katerina. 
What shall I do? 

Varvara. 
Yes, what will you do ? 

Katerina. 
Whatever I long to do, I will do. 

42 



act ii. sc. ii. THE STORM 

Varvara. 
Just try ; why they'd torment you to death. 

Katerina. 

What do I care ! I should go away, and that would be 
the end of it. 

Varvara. 

Where would you go ? You are a married woman. 

Katerina. 
Ah, Varia, you don't know me ! I pray, of course, it may 
never come to that ! But if I am too miserable here, 
they would not keep me by any force on earth. I 
should throw myself out of the window, I should 
drown myself in the Volga. If I will not to live 
here, then I would not, they might cut me to pieces ! 
(Silence.) 

Varvara. 

Do you know what, Katia! When Tihon's gone, let's 
sleep in the garden, in the summerhouse. 

Katerina. 
Oh, why, Varia? 

Varvara. 

Why, isn't it just the same to you ? 

Katerina. 
I'm timid of sleeping in a place I'm not used to. 

Varvara. 
Timid, nonsense ! Glasha will be with us. 

Katerina. 
Still one feels nervous, somehow ! But perhaps I will. 

43 



THE STORM act ii. sc. ii. 

Varvara. 

I wouldn't have asked you, only mamma wouldn't let me 
alone, and I must. 

Katerina {looking at her). 
What for? 

Varvara (laughing). 

We'll tell our fortunes together there. 

Katerina. 
You must be joking. 

Varvara. 

To be sure, I am joking ; did you think I meant it ? 

[Silence. 
Katerina. 
Where can Tihon be ? 

Varvara. 

Why, do you want him ? 

Katerina. 
No, I only wondered, he has to start so soon. 

Varvara. 
He's sitting locked up with mamma. She's nagging 
away at him now. 

Katerina. 
What for? 

Varvara. 

For nothing at all, teaching him to mind what he's about. 

He'll be a fortnight away out of her sight! Only 

fancy ! She has an uneasy inkling all the time that 

he'll enjoy himself when he's his own master. And 

44 



act ii. sc. in. THE STORM 

so she's busy now laying all sorts of injunctions upon 
him, each more imperative than the last, and then 
she'll take him up to the holy picture and make him 
swear solemnly that he'll do everything exactly and 
precisely according to her bidding. 

Katerina. 
And so even when he's free he'll be as good as bound. 

Varvara. 

Bound ! Oh, will he ! As soon as he gets away, he'll 
start drinking, you may be sure. He says nothing 
now, but all the while he's only thinking how to get 
away as soon as possible. 

[Enter Mme. Kabanova and Kdbanov. 

Scene III 
The Same with Kabanov and Madame Kabanova. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Now do you remember everything I've told you ? Mind 
you do remember it ! Keep it in your heart ! 

Kabanov. 
Yes, mamma. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Well, now everything is ready. The horses are at the 
door. You've only to say good-bye and be off in 
God's name. 

Kabanov. 

Yes, mamma, it's time I was off. 

45 



THE STORM act ii. sc. hi. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Well? 

Kabanov. 
What do you desire ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Why are you standing about ? Don't you know the way 
to do things ? Lay your commands upon your wife, 
exhort her how she is to live in your absence. 

[Katerina looks on the ground. 

Kabanov. 
But she knows quite well without that. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

The way you talk ! Come, come, give your commands, 
that I may hear what commands you lay upon her ! 
And then when you come back, you can ask if she 
has performed everything exactly. 

Kabanov (standing opposite Katerina). 
Obey mamma, Katia. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Tell her not to be saucy to her mother-in-law. 

Kabanov. 
Don't be saucy ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

To revere her mother-in-law as her own mother. 

Kabanov. 
Revere mamma, Katia, as your own mother. 

46 



act ii. sc. in. THE STORM 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Not to sit with her hands in her lap like a fine lady. 

Kabanov. 
Do some work while I am away ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Not to go staring out of window ! 

Kabanov. 
But, mamma, whenever has she. . . . 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Come, come ! 

Kabanov. 

Don't look out of window ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Not to stare at young fellows while you are away ! 

Kabanov. 
But that is too much, mamma, for mercy's sake ! 

Mme. Kabanova (severely). 

Enough of this nonsense! It's your duty to do what 
your mother tells you. ( With a smile) It's always as 
well when it's forbidden. 

Kabanov (in great confusion). 
Don't look at young men ! [Katerina looks sternly at him. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Well, now you can talk by yourselves a little, if you want 
to. Come, Varvara ! [They go out. 

47 



THE STORM act ii. sc. iv. 



Scene IV 

Kabanov and Katerina (she stands as though turned 
to stone). 

Kabanov. 
Katia ! (Silence.) Katia, you're not angry with me ? 

Katerina (after a protracted silence — shakes her head). 
No! 

Kabanov. 

But why are you like this ? Come, forgive me ! 

Katerina (still in the same position, slightly shaking 
her head). 

Peace be with you ! (Hiding her face in her hands) She 
has hurt me ! 

Kabanov. 

If you take everything to heart so, you'll soon fall into a 
decline. Why listen to her ! You know she must 
talk ! Well then, let her talk, and you let it go in 
at one ear and out at the other. Come, good-bye, 
Katia ! 

Katerina (falling on her husband's neck), 

Tisha, don't go away ! For God's sake, don't go away ! 
Dear one, I implore you ! 

Kabanov. 
I must, Katia. When mamma sends me, how can I not go ? 

Katerina. 
Well, take me with you, do take me ! 

48 



act ii. sc. iv. THE STORM 

Kabanov {freeing himself from her embrace). 

But it's impossible ! 

Katerina. 

Oh, why, Tisha, impossible ? 

Kabanov. 

Much fun there would be in going with you ! You've 
worried me out of my life here between you ! No 
sooner have I a hope of escaping than you want to 
fasten yourself upon me. 

Katerina. 
Why, can it be that you are tired of me ? 

Kabanov. 

No, I'm not tired of you ; but to get out of this slavery a 
man would run away from the loveliest woman in 
the world ! Just consider for a minute ; I may not 
be good for much ; but I'm a man anyway ; and 
living all my life as you see, one's glad to run away 
from one's wife even. Why, when I think now, that 
for two whole weeks there'll be no storm hanging 
over me, no fetters on my legs, — do you suppose I 
can think of my wife ? 

Katerina. 
How can I care for you, when you say things like that ? 

Kabanov. 

Say things ? Why, what things am I to say ? God knows 
what it is you're afraid of! You won't be alone, you 
know, you'll be with mamma. 
d 49 



THE STORM act ii. sc. iv. 

Katerina. 

Don't speak of her, don't torture my heart ! Ah, how 
wretched I am, how wretched ! ( Weeps.) Where can 
I go ? Whom can I cling to ? Merciful Heavens, I 
am lost ! 

Kabanov. 

Come, be quiet ! 

Katerina (goes up to her husband and draws him to her). 

Tisha, dear one, if you would stay, if you would take me 
with you, how I would love you, how I would cherish 
you, my dear one ! 

Kabanov. 

I can't make you out, Katia ! Often there's no getting a 
word out of you, to say nothing of a kiss, and now 
you come coaxing up to me of your own accord. 

Katerina. 

Tisha, what are you leaving me to ? There'll be trouble 
when you're away ! There'll be trouble ! 

Kabanov. 
Now, come, I can't, so it's no use. 

Katerina. 
Well, here then ! Take from me some dreadful vow. . . . 

Kabanov. 
What vow ? 

Katerina. 

A vow that I will not dare while you're away on any 
ground whatever to speak with any outsider, nor 
50 



act ii. sc. v. THE STORM 

see anyone, — that I will not even dare to think of 
anyone but you. 

Kabanov. 
But what's this for ? 

Katerina. 

Set my heart at rest, do this for me ! 

Kabanov. 

But one can never answer for oneself like that, anything 
may come into one's head. 

Katerina (falling on her knees). 

May I never look upon my father nor my mother ! May 
I die impenitent, if I . . . 

Kabanov (pulling her up). 

Hush ! Nonsense ! What wickedness is this ! I won't 
hear you ! 
[Voice of Mme. Kabanova heard without, "It's 
time to start, Tihon ! " Enter Mme. Kabanova, 
Varvara and Glasha. 

Scene V 

The same. 

Mme. Kabanova, Varvara and Glasha. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Come, Tihon, it's time now! Set off on your way in 
God's name ! (sits down). Sit down, all of you ! 
(All sit down. Silence.) Now, good-bye ! (Gets 
up and all get up.) 

51 



THE STORM act ii. sc. vl 

Kabanov (going up to his mother). 
Good-bye, mamma ! 

Mme. Kabanova (with a wave of her hand points him 
to the ground). 
At my feet ! At my feet ! (Kabanov bows down to her 
feet, then lasses his mother.) Say good-bye to your 
wife. 

Kabanov. 

Good-bye, Katia ! [Katerina falls on his neck, 

Mme. Kabanova. 
What do you want to hang on his neck like that for, 
shameless hussy ! It's not a lover you're parting 
from ! He's your husband — your head ! Don't you 
know how to behave ? Bow down at his feet ! 

[Katerina boivs down to his feet. 

Kabanov. 
Good-bye, sister (kisses Varvara). Good-bye ! Glasha 
(kisses Glasha). Good-bye, mamma ! (bows down 
to the ground). 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Good-bye ! Long farewells mean foolish tears. 

[Kabanov goes out, after him Katerina, Varvara, 
and Glasha. 

Scene VI 

Mme. Kabanova (alone). 

Mme. Kabanova. 
The way young folks behave ! It makes one laugh really 

52 



act ii. sc. vii. THE STORM 

to see them ! If they weren't my own, I could 
laugh till I split. They don't know the way to do 
anything properly. Can't even take leave with 
decorum. A lucky thing it is for them that they 
have elder folk, who will keep their house together 
as long as they're living. And yet, the silly fools, 
they long to be their own masters, though when 
they do have their own way, they get in a mess 
directly to the scandal and amusement of all worthy 
folk. One here and there, to be sure, will be sorry 
for them, but for the most part they'll all laugh. 
No one can help laughing either; they'll invite 
guests, and not know how they should sit, and 
what's more, as likely as not, they leave out some 
one of their relations. It's simply comical. But the 
old order's passing away. There are some houses 
one doesn't care to go into. If you do cross the 
threshold, all you can do is to spit, and get away as 
quick as may be. What will happen when the old 
people are dead, how the world will go on, I really 
can't think. I'm thankful anyway, that I shall see 
nothing of it. [Enter Katerina and Varvara. 



Scene VII 

Mme. Kabanova, Katerina, and Varvara. 

You make a boast of loving your husband so much ; I see 
now how much your love's worth. Any other good 
wife, on seeing her husband off, would wail for a good 
hour and a half, lying on the steps ; but one can see 
you're not much upset. 

53 



THE STORM act il sc. viii. 

Katerina. 
There's no reason to be ! Besides, I don't know how to 
wail. Why make the people laugh ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

No great art is needed. If you loved him you would have 
learnt to do it. If you can't wail properly, you should 
wail a little, if only for example. It is always more 
decorous ; or else one sees it is all words with you. 
Well, I'm going to pray to God ; do not interrupt me. 

Varvara. 
I'm going out. 

Mme. Kabanova {caressingly). 
I've nothing against it ! Go and enjoy yourself till your 
time comes. You'll have sitting indoors enough 
later on ! [Exeunt Mme. Kabanova and Varvara. 

Scene VIII 

Katerina {alone, dreamily). 

Well, now, peace reigns in our house ! Ah, the dreariness. 
If only there were children ! That's the saddest thing ! 
I have no children ; I should sit with them and amuse 
them all day. I love talking to little children — 
they are angels, really. {Silence.) If I had died 
when I was little, it would have been better. I 
should have looked down on to the earth from 
Heaven and been delighted with everything. I 
should have flown unseen wherever I liked. I 
would have floated into the country and fluttered 
from flower to flower, like a butterfly. {Sinks into 
54 



act ii. sc. ix. THE STORM 

a reverie) I know what I will do ; I will begin some 
piece of work, as an offering to God. I will go to 
the bazaar, and buy some stuff and make some clothes 
to give to the poor. They will remember me in their 
prayers. And so I'll sit sewing with Varvara, and 
we shall not notice how the time passes ; and soon 
Tisha will be back. [Enter Varvara, 



Scene IX 

Katerina and Varvara. 

Varvara (putting a kerchief on her head before the 
looking-glass). 
I am just going out for a walk now ; Glasha's putting our 
beds in the summer house now, mamma's consented 
to let us sleep there. Mamma always keeps the 
little gate in the garden behind the raspberries locked 
up and hides the key. I've taken it and put another 
one in its place for her, so she won't notice it. Here, 
see, maybe, it will be wanted (gives the key). If I 
see him, I shall tell him to come to the little gate. 

Katerina (with horror, pushing away the key). 
What for ! what for ! No ! no ! 

Varvara. 
If you don't want it, I do ; take it, it won't bite you ! 

Katerina. 
But what are you plotting, wicked girl ? It's impossible ! 
Do you know what you're doing ? It's dreadful, 
dreadful ! 

55 



THE STORM act il sc. x. 

Varvara. 

Well, well — Least said is soonest mended ; and I've no 
time to stay either. It's time for my walk. [Goes. 

Scene X 
Katerina (alone, holding the key in her hand). 

The things she thinks of doing ! Ah, she's a mad girl, 
really mad ! Here is ruin ! Here it is ! Fling it 
away, fling it far away, drop it into the river, that 
it may never be found. It burns the hand like fire. 
(Musing) This is how we women come to ruin. 
How can anyone be happy in bondage? One may 
be driven to anything. Many a one is glad if she 
gets the chance ; she flings herself headlong. But 
how can they, without thinking, without reflecting ! 
Easy is the path that leads to misfortune! And 
then tears and anguish all your life : your bondage 
is bitterer than ever. (Silence) But bitter is a life 
of bondage, ah, how bitter ! Who does not weep in 
it ! Most of all, we women. Here am I now ! I am 
fretting away my life, and I see no loophole of light 
and hope before me ! And I never shall see it, that's 
certain ! It'll be worse as it goes on. And now this 
wickedness too has come upon me. (Muses) If it 
were not for my mother-in-law ! . . . She is crushing 
me. . . . She has made the house hateful to me. . . . 
I loathe the very walls because of her. (Looks dreamily 
at the key) Throw it away ? Of course, I must throw 
it away. And how came it into my hands ? For my 
temptation, for my undoing. (Listens) Ah, someone 
56 



act in. sc. i. THE STORM 

is coming. How my heart is beating ! (hides the key 
in her pocket) No ! ... No one ! . . . Why was I 
so frightened ? And I have put away the key. . . . 
Well, that's a sign it is to be ! Fate itself, it seems, 
wills it ! And where is the sin if I do look at him 
just once, from a distance. Even if I speak to him, 
still there's no harm in that ! But what I said to 
Tihon . . . why, he would not have it himself. And 
maybe, such a chance will not come again all my life 
long. Then I may well weep to myself — that there 
was a chance and I had not sense to seize it. 
But why talk, why cheat myself ? If I die for it, I 
must see him. Whom am I trying to deceive . . . 
Throw away the key ! No, for nothing in the whole 
world ! It is mine now. . . . Come what may, I 
will see Boris ! Ah, night ! come quickly ! 



ACT III 

Scene I 

The Street. The gates of the Kabanovs' house, a garden 
seat before the gates. 

Mme. Kabanova and Feklusha (sitting on the bench). 

Feklusha. 

The end of the world is at hand, ma'am, by every sign 

and token, Marfa Ignatievna, the end of the world 

is at hand. It's peace and paradise still here in your 

town, but in other towns it's simply Sodom, ma'am : 

57 



THE STORM act hi. sc. l 

the noise, the bustle, the incessant traffic ! The 
people keep running one one way, and one another. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
We've no need to hurry, my dear, we live without haste. 

Feklusha. 

No, ma'am ; there is peace and quietness in this town, 
because there are many people, you for instance, 
adorned with virtues, as with flowers ; that's why 
everything is done decorously and tranquilly. Why, 
what is the meaning of all that haste and bustle, 
ma'am ? It is vanity, to be sure ! In Moscow now : 
the folk run to and fro ; there's no knowing for why. 
It is all vanity. It is a people, full of vanity, ma'am, 
and so it runs to and fro. Each one fancies he's 
hurrying on business ; he hastens, poor fellow, doesn't 
recognise people ; it seems to him that someone is 
beckoning him ; but when he gets to the place, sure 
enough it's empty, there's nothing there, it's only a 
dream. And he is downcast and disappointed. And 
another one fancies that he's overtaking someone he 
knows. Anyone looking on can see in a trice that 
there's no one ; but it seems to him in his vanity and 
delusion that he's overtaking someone. Vanity, to 
be sure, is like a fog about them. Here among you 
on a fine evening like this, it's not often anyone even 
comes out to sit at his gate ; but in Moscow now 
there's walking and playing, and a fearful racket 
going on in the street ; a continual roar. And 
what's more, Marfa Ignatievna, ma'am, they've 
58 



act in. sc. i. THE STORM 

harnessed a fiery serpent to drive : all, look you, 
for the sake of more speed. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
I have heard tell of it, my dear. 

Feklusha. 

But I, ma'am, have seen it with my own eyes ; no doubt, 
others, in blindness and vanity, see nothing, so it 
seems a machine to them, but I saw it doing like 
this {spreading out her fingers) with its paws. And 
a roar, too, that folks of righteous life hear for what 
it is. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

You can call it anything you like, call it a machine, if you 
will ; the people is foolish and will believe anything. 
But as for me you might load me with gold, I 
wouldn't drive with such a thing. 

Feklusha. 

The very idea, ma'am ! The Lord preserve us from such 
a thing. And let me tell you too, Marfa Ignatievna, 
ma'am, a vision I had in Moscow. I went out early 
in the morning, it was just dawn, and on a high, very 
high house, on the roof, I saw someone standing, 
with a black face. You understand whom I mean. 
And he kept moving his hands, as though he were 
scattering something, but nothing fell. Then I 
divined that he was the enemy sowing tares, and 
the people in their blindness see it not, and gather 
them up. And that is why they run to and fro so, 
and the women among them are all so thin, and 
59 



THE STORM act in. sc. i. 

never get plump and comfortable, but always look 
as if they had lost something, or were looking for 
something, and that careworn they are, you feel 
sorry for them. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Anything is possible, my dear, in our times, one can't be 
surprised at anything. 

Feklusha. 

Hard times they are, Marfa Ignatievna, ma'am, very 

hard. x\lready the time has begun diminishing. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
How is that ? diminishing, my dear ? 

Feklusha. 
We, of course — how should we observe it in our blind- 
ness and vanity ? but wise people have observed that 
time has grown shorter with us. Once the summer 
and the winter dragged on endlessly, you got tired 
of looking for the end of them, but now, before one's 
time to look about one, they've flown. The days 
and the hours still seem the same, of course ; but the 
time keeps growing shorter and shorter, for our sins. 
That's what the learned folk say about it. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
And worse than that will be, my dear. 

Feklusha. 
I only trust we shan't live to see it. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Maybe, we shall. [Enter Dikoy. 

60 



act in. so. ii. THE STORM 

Scene II 

The Same and Dikoy. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
What brings yon abroad so late, old friend ? 

Dikoy. 
Why, who's to hinder me being out, I should like to know ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Who wants to hinder you, indeed ! 

Dikoy. 

Well, then what's the use of talking ? Whose control am 
I under, hey ? What next will you say ? What the 
devil . . . 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Now then, keep a little check on your tongue! You'd 
better look out for someone else to talk to ! I 
won't let you off so easily as some do ! Go your way 
wherever you're going. Come indoors, Feklusha. 

[Gets up. 
Dikoy. 

Wait a bit, old friend, wait a bit ! Don't be angry. 
You're in no hurry to get home ; your home's not 
many miles away. Here it is ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

If you've come on business, don't shout at me, but speak 
out plainly. 

61 



THE STORM act hi. sc. il 

DlKOY. 

I've no business, but I'm drunk, that's what it is ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Well, would you have me praise you for that, hey ? 

Dikoy. 

Needn't praise or blame. Only I'm drunk, and that's all 
about it. I can't get over it till I've slept it off. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Well, go and have a sleep then. 

Dikoy. 
Where am I to go ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Home, of course, where else ? 

Dikoy. 

But if I don't want to go home. 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Why not, allow me to ask you ? 

Dikoy. 
Because I've a row going on there. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Why, who is there to quarrel with ? You're the only 
quarrelsome one there, you know. 

Dikoy. 
Well, what if I am quarrelsome, hey ? What of it, hey ? 

62 



act in. sc. ii. THE STORM 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Oh, nothing. Only there's no great glory in doing battle 
all your life with women, that's all. 

DlKOY. 

Well, I suppose they ought to obey me ! Or am I to 
obey them, hey ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 

I really wonder at you ; with all the crowd of folks in 
your house, not a single one can do anything to your 
liking. 

DlKOY. 

That's so ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Come, what do you want of me ? 

DlKOY. 

Well, talk me out of my temper. You're the only person 
in the whole town who knows how to talk to me. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Go in, Feklusha, and order a little something to be 
served. {Feklusha goes.) Let's go indoors. 

DlKOY. 

No, I'm not going indoors, I'm worse indoors ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
How have they put you into such a rage ? 

DlKOY. 

I've been so all day since the morning. 

63 



THE STORM act hi. sc. il 

Mme. Kabanova. 
I suppose they've been asking for money. 

DlKOY. 

As if they were in league together, damn them. One 
after another the whole day long they've been at me. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

No doubt you'll have to give it them, or they wouldn't 
persist. 

DlKOY. 

I know that ; but what would you have me do, since I've 
a temper like that ? Why, I know that I must pay, 
still I can't do it with a good will. You're a friend 
of mine, and I've to pay you something, and you 
come and ask me for it, I'm bound to swear at you ! 
Pay I will, if pay I must, but I must swear too. 
For you've only to hint at money to me, and I feel 
hot all over in a minute ; red-hot all over, and that's 
all about it. And to be sure at such times, I'd swear 
at anyone for nothing at all. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

You've no one over you, and so you think you can do as 
you like. 

DlKOY. 

No, you hold your tongue ! Listen to me ! I'll tell you 
the sort of troubles that happen to me. I had fasted 
and all ready for sacrament in Lent, and then the 
evil one thrusts a wretched peasant under my nose. 
He had come for money, — for wood he had supplied 
64 



act in. sc. ii. THE STORM 

us. And for my sins he must needs show himself at 
a time like that ! I fell into sin, of course, I pitched 
into him, pitched into him finely, I did, all but 
thrashed him. There you have it, my temper ! 
Afterwards I asked his pardon, bowed down at his 
feet, upon my word I did. It's the truth I'm telling 
you, I bowed down at a peasant's feet. That's what 
my temper brings me to : on the spot there, in the 
mud I bowed down at his feet ; before everyone, I 
did. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

But what do you work yourself up into a rage on purpose 
for ? That's not right, my friend ! 

DlKOT. 

On purpose ? How d'you mean ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 
I've seen you, I know all about it. When you see that 
people are going to ask you for anything, you go and 
pick a quarrel purposely with one of your household, 
so as to work yourself into a rage. For you know 
that when you're in a rage, no one dare come near 
you. That's a pretty thing ! 

DlKOY. 

Well, what of it ? Who likes parting with his property ? 

[Glasha comes in. 
Glasha. 

Marfa Ignatievna, lunch is served ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Well, old friend, come in ! Have a taste of what God 
has sent us ! 
E 65 



THE STORM act hi. sc. hi. 

DlKOY. 

Much obliged. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Pray walk in. ( Ushers Dikoy in fron t and follows him in. 
Glasha, folding her arms, stands at tlie gates.) 

Glasha. 

If that isn't Boris Grigoritch coming. Sure now he's not 
after his uncle ? Or may be, just out for a stroll — to 
be sure, out for a stroll, he must be. [Enter Boris. 

Scene III 

Glasha, Boris, later Kuligin. 

Boris. 
Isn't my uncle inside ? 

Glasha. 

Yes. Do you want him ? 

Boris. 

They sent me from home to find out where he was. But 
since he's with you let him stop there ; no one wants 
him. At home they're pleased and happy that he's 
out. 

Glasha. 

Our good lady ought to marry him, she'd soon make him 
mind what he's about. But I mustn't stop here 
gossiping with you ! Good-bye. [Exit. 

Boris. 
Ah, merciful Heavens ! For one glimpse of her ! I can't 

66 







act in. sc. in. THE STORM 

go into the house. No one calls anywhere uninvited 
in this place. What a life ! We are living in the 
same town, almost next door ; yet we barely see each 
other once a week, and then only in church, or in the 
street, — and that's all! When a woman's married 
here she might as well be buried, — it's all the same. 
(Silence.) If only I had never seen her ; it would 
have been better for me! I can only see her by 
snatches, and before people, — who are all eyes, 
staring at one. It's simply heartrending. And yet 
there's no mastering oneself. If I go out for a walk, 
I always find myself here at the gate. And what 
use is there in coming here? There's never any 
chance of seeing her, and what's more, it may give 
rise to gossip and do her harm. Well, it's a fine 
town, certainly ! 

[He is going, Kuligin comes, meeting him. 

KULIGIN. 

Well, sir ? out for a walk ? 

Bokis. 
Yes, it's very pleasant out now. 

Kuligin. 

Very pleasant it is, sir, walking now. The stillness, the 
sweet air, the scent of flowers from the far side of the 
Volga, the clear sky — 

The space aloft, filled full of stars, 
Stars numberless, space limitless. 

Shall we go to the parade, there's not a soul there. 
67 



act in. sc. in. THE STORM 

Boris. 

Yes, come along. 

Kuligin. 

That's our town all over, sir ! Here they've made a 
parade, but they don't walk there. They only walk 
out on fete days, and then they only make a show of 
being out for a walk. They really come out to show 
off their best clothes. You never meet anyone but 
maybe a drunken attorney's clerk reeling home from 
the tavern. The poor have no time, sir, to walk out ; 
they must work and worry day and night. Three 
hours' sleep is all they get out of the twenty-four. 
But what are the rich about ? You'd wonder why 
they shouldn't walk about and enjoy the fresh air. 
But not a bit of it ! They've all had their gates, sir, 
locked up long ago, and their dogs let loose. . . . 
Do you suppose they are at work at their business, 
or praying to God ? No, sir ! And it's not for fear 
of thieves they lock themselves up ; it's that folks 
shouldn't see the way they ill-treat their household, 
and bully their families. And the tears that flow 
behind those bolts, unseen, unheard of ! But there's 
no need to tell you that, sir ! You can judge of it 
for yourself. And the sordid sodden vice within 
those barred gates, sir ! And all hidden and buried — 
no one sees or knows anything of it, God alone 
beholds it ! Stare at me as you like, say they, in the 
street and among folk, but you've nothing to do with 
my family ; that's what I have locks for, and bolts 
and bars and savage dogs. The family's something 
apart, secret ! We know all about such secrets ! — 
secrets, sir, that make one man merry, perhaps, while 
68 



THE STORM act hi. so. iv. 

the rest are weeping and wailing. Much secrecy 
about it ! Everyone knows ! Robbing their orphans, 
kinsfolk, nephews, beating their dependents till 
they're too cowed to hint at what goes on within 
doors, — there's no great secret in that ! But that's 
enough of them ! Do you know, sir, who do go for 
walks here ? The young fellows and girls. They steal 
an hour or two from sleep and walk out in couples. 
There's a couple over there! 

[Kudriash and Varvara are seen. They kiss. 

Boris. 
They are kissing. 

Kuligin. 

We don't think much of that. 

[Kudriash goes off, and Varvara goes towards her 
own gate and beckons Boris, he goes up to her. 

Scene IV 
Boris, Kuligin and Varvara. 

Kuligin. 

Ill go to the parade, sir. I'm in your way. I'll wait for 
you there. 

Boris. 

Very well, I'll come directly. 

Varvara (hiding her face in her kerchief). 
Do you know the hollow behind the Kabanovs' garden ? 

Boris. 

Yes. 

69 



THE STORM act hi. sc. v. 

Varvara. 
You come there a little later on. 

Boris. 
What for? 

Varvara. 

How stupid you are ! Come ; then you'll see what for. 
Well, you'd better make haste now, since that 
person's waiting for you. (Boris goes.) There, he 
didn't know me ! Well, now let him wonder, I 
know very well that Katerina won't hold out, she'll 
run out to see him. [Goes in at the gate. Curtain, 

Scene V 

The scene changes. 

A hollow dell covered with bushes j at the top of it the 
Kabanovs' garden and a gate ; a path leading down 
from it. 

(Kudriash enters with a guitar.) 

Kudriash. 

No one. What is she up to ? Well, I'll sit and wait for 
her. (Seats himself on a stone) This is slow ; I'll 
sing a song (sings). 

As the Don Cossack, the Cossack, leads his horse to drink, 
The brave young man, he stands at the gate, 
At the gate he stands, and ponders in his heart, 
In his heart he ponders, how he will slay his wife. 
And the wife, the wife besought him, 
Falling down at his swift feet ; 

70 



act in. sc. vi. THE STORM 

Master, friend of my heart, I pray thee, 

Strike me not, slay me not in the evening ! 

But kill me, slay me after midnight ! 

Let my little children be asleep, 

My little children, and all my good neighbours. 

[Enter Boris. 

Scene VI 
Kudriash and Boris. 

Kudriash (stops singing). 

Hullo ! Such a sober, staid person as you, out on the 
spree too ? 

Boris. 
Kudriash, is that you ? 

Kudriash. 
It is, Boris Grigoritch. 

Boris. 
What are you here for ? 

Kudriash. 

What for ? I suppose because I want to be here, Boris 
Grigoritch, since I am here. I shouldn't have come 
if I hadn't wanted to. Where is fortune taking you ? 

Boris (looking carefully at the scene around him). 

Look here, Kudriash, I've got to stop here, and I've no 
doubt it's all the same to you, so you might go and 
sit in some other place. 

Kudriash. 
No, Boris Grigoritch, you're here, I perceive, for the first 

71 



THE STORM act hi. sc. vi. 

time, but this is a place where I have often sat, and 
this little path has been trodden by my feet. I like 
you, sir, and am ready to do you any service ; but 
you'll kindly refrain from meeting me in this path 
at night, lest evil come of it. Fair words are better 
than gold. 

Boris. 

What is the matter with you, Vania ? 

Kudriash. 

Vania, indeed ! I know my name's Vania. But you go 
on your way, that's all about it. Find a girl to your 
liking, and walk out with her to your heart's content, 
and no one will say a word to you. But don't 
meddle with other fellows' girls ! That's not the 
way we do things here, or the fellows will break 
your legs for you. For my girl . . . Well, I don't 
know what I wouldn't do ! I'd cut your throat ! 

Boris. 

You're angry for no reason ; I've not the slightest idea of 
robbing you of her. I shouldn't have come here if I 
hadn't been told to. 

Kudriash. 
Who told you to ? 

Boris. 

I couldn't make out, it was dark. A girl stopped me in 
the street and said I was to come just here, behind 
the Kabanovs' garden, where there is a little path. 

Kudriash. 
Who could that be ? 

72 



act in. sc. vi. THE STORM 

Boris. 

Listen, Kudriash. Could I speak to you openly, you 
wouldn't gossip ? 

Kudriash. 

You needn't be afraid of that ! I'm as safe as the grave. 

Boris. 

I know nothing of your habits and ways of doing things 
here ; but the fact is . . . 

Kudriash. 
You're in love. 

Boris. 
Yes, Kudriash. 

Kudriash. 

Oh, well, that's all right. We're free enough in that way. 
The girls amuse themselves as they like, and the 
father and mother have nothing to say to it. It's 
only the wives are kept shut up. 

Boris. 
That's just what's so sad. 

Kudriash. 
You don't mean to say you're in love with a married 
woman ? 

Boris. 
She is married, Kudriash. 

Kudriash. 
Ah, Boris Grigoritch, you must drop that ! 

Boris. 
It's easy to say drop it ! I daresay it's all the same to 

73 



THE STORM act hi. sc. vl 

you, you'll throw up one and pick up another easily 
enough ! But I can't do like that ! If once I 
love . . . 

Kudriash. 

That's as much as to say you're ready to ruin the poor 
thing completely, Boris Grigoritch ! 

Boris. 

God forbid ! God forbid ! No, Kudriash, how can you ! 
I ready to ruin her! I only want to see her, to 
speak to her, I ask for nothing more. 

Kudriash. 

You can't answer for yourself like that, sir ! And just 
think what sort of people you have to deal with here. 
You know them yourself. They'd be the death of 
her, they'd torment her into the grave. 

Boris. 
Ah, don't say that, Kudriash, please don't frighten me ! 

Kudriash. 
But does she care for you ? 

Boris. 
I don't know. 

Kudriash. 

Have you ever met then ? 

Boris. 

I have only once been in their house with my uncle. 
And I see her in church, and pass her sometimes 
on the parade. Ah, Kudriash, how she prays, if 
74 






act in. sc. vi. THE STORM 

you could see her ! the angelic smile on her face ! 
her face seems to shed light. 

Kudriash. 
Oh, then it's the young wife of Kabanov. 

Boris. 
Yes, Kudriash. 

Kudriash. 

Oh, so that's it ! Well, I humbly congratulate you ! 

Boris. 
What for? 

Kudriash. 

Well, things look promising for you, since she's sent you 
word to come here. 

Boris. 
Can it be she sent word ? 

Kudriash. 
Why, who else could it be ? 

Boris. 

No, you're making fun of me ! It can't be so. (Clutches 
his head.) 

Kudriash. 
What's the matter ? 

Boris. 
I shall go mad with joy. 

Kudriash. 

What next ! I can't see anything to go mad about ! 
You look out that you don't make a mess of things 
75 



THE STORM act hi. sc. vil 

and get her into trouble ! Her husband's a fool, we 
all know, but her mother-in-law is terrible. 

[ Varvara comes out of the gate. 



Scene VII 
The Same and Varvara, afterwards Katerina. 

Varvara (at the gate, sings). 

" Beyond the river, the swift river, 
My Vania's walking, dear Vania's walking "... 

Kudriash (going on with the song). 
"Going to the fair." (Whistles.) 

Varvara (comes down the path and, hiding her face 
in her kerchief, goes up to Boris). 

You wait a bit, lad. You've something to wait for. (To 
Kudriash) Let's go to the Volga. 

Kudriash. 

Why have you been so long ? Kept me waiting again ! 
You know I don't like it ! ( Varvara puts one arm 
round him and they walk away.) 

Boris. 

It's like a dream ! This night, and singing and trysts ! 
They're walking, their arms round each other. It is 
so new for me, so sweet ! Here I am waiting for 
something. And what I am waiting for — I know 
not and cannot picture to myself; only my heart is 
throbbing and every nerve is quivering. I cannot 
76 



act in. so. vii. THE STORM 

think even what to say to her, I can hardly breathe, 
my knees are shaking! My stupid heart is in my 
mouth, I can't quiet it. Here she comes. (Katerina 
slowly comes down the path, wrapt in a large white 
kerchief, her eyes fixed on the ground. Silence.) Is 
it you? Katerina Petrovna? (Silence.) How can 
I ever thank you, — I don't know. (Silence.) If you 
only knew, Katerina Petrovna, how I love you ! 

[Tries to take her hand. 

Katerina (with terror, but not raising her eyes). 
Do not touch me, do not touch me ! Alas, alas ! 

Boris. 
Do not be angry ! 

Katerina. 

Go away from me, go away, unhappy man! Do you 
know that never by any prayer can I be free of this 
sin, never again! Like a stone it will lie on my 
soul, like a stone. 

Boris. 

Do not send me away ! 

Katerina. 

Why did you come ? Why did you come for my 
undoing? I am a wife, you know, I must live 
with my husband, till I lie in the grave. . . . 

Boris. 
You told me yourself to come . . . 

Katerina. 
Till the grave ; do you understand ? 

77 



THE STORM act in. so. vn. 

Boris. 
Better if I had never seen you. 

Katerina (with great emotion). 

You see what I am preparing for myself? What is the 
only place left for me ? 

Boris. 
Calm yourself. (Takes her hand) Sit down ! 

Katerina. 
Why do you wish for my ruin ? 

Boris. 

How can I wish to injure you, when I love you more than 
anything in the world, more than myself? 

Katerina. 
No, no ! You have been the undoing of me. 

Boris. 
Am I such a wicked wretch ? 

Katerina (shaking her head). 

I am lost, lost, lost ! 

Boris. 

God forbid ! I'd rather perish myself ! 

Katerina. 

Have I not forsaken my home, and come out to you in 
the night ? 

Boris. 

You came of your own free will. 

78 



act in. sc. vii. THE STORM 

Katerina. 

I have no will. If I had had any will left of my own, I 
would not have come to you. {Lifts her eyes and 
looks at Boris. A short silence.) Your will is upon 
me now, don't you see that ? [Sinks on his neck. 

Boris (puts his arms about Katerina). 
My life ! 

Katerina. 

Ah, if death would come quickly now ! 

Boris. 
Why die when life is so sweet for us ? 

Katerina. 
No, life is not for me ! I know it is not for me ! 

Boris. 
Don't say such things, please, don't torture me. 

Katerina. 
Yes, you are happy, you are free as the air, but I ! . . . 

Boris. 

No one shall know of our love. Do you think I have no 
feeling for you ? 

Katerina. 

Ah ! Why feel for me, it's no one's fault. I have come 
to this of myself. Don't think of me ! Anyone may 
know, anyone may see what I do ! (Takes Boris in 
her arms.) Since I have not feared to do wrong for 
you, am I likely to fear the judgment of men ? They 
79 



THE STORM act hi. sc. vii. 

do say, it will be better for one, if one has to suffer 
here on earth for any sin. 
Boris. 

Come, why think of that, when we are happy now ! 

Katerina. 

Why, truly ! I shall have long years to weep enough here- 
after. 

Boris. 

And I was so frightened, I thought you would send me 
away. 

Katerina (smiling). 

Send you away ! How could I ? Not with my heart. If 
you had not come, I think I should have gone to you 
myself. 

Boris. 

I never even guessed you loved me. 

Katerixa. 

I have loved you for so long. It's as though, for my sins, 
you came here to torment me. Directly I saw you I 
ceased to belong to myself. From the first moment, 
I believe, if you had beckoned to me, I would have 
followed you ; to the ends of the earth I would have 
followed you, and never looked back. 

Boris. 
Has your husband gone away for long ? 

Katerina. 
For a fortnight. 

Boris. 

0, then we will be happy ! that is a long time. 

80 



act in. sc. viil THE STORM 

Katerina. 

We will be happy. And then . . . (sinks into dreamy 
musing). If they lock me up, that will be my death ! 
And if they don't lock me up, I will find some way 
to see you again ! [Enter Kudriash and Varvara.. 

Scene VIII 
The Same, with Kudriash and Varvara. 

Varvara. 

Well, have you made friends ? (Katerina hides her face on 
Boris's breast). 

Boris. 
Yes. 

Varvara. 

You might go and walk about a bit and let us rest. 
When it's time to go in, Vania will shout. (Boris 
and Katerina go atvay, Kudriash and Varvara sit 
down on the stone.) 

Kudriash. 

This is a first-rate plan, getting out at the garden gate. 
It's fine and convenient for us. 

Varvara. 
It's all my doing. 

Kudriash. 

There's no one like you for such things. But what if 
your mother catches you ? 

Varvara. 
Oh ! How could she ? It would never enter her head ! 
f 81 



THE STORM act hi. sc. viii. 

KUDRIASH. 

But if by ill luck, it were to ? 

Varvara. 

Her first sleep is souucl ; in the early morning now, there 
is more chance of her being awake. 

Kudriash. 

But there's never any knowing ! Some evil spirit might 
rouse her up. 

Varvara. 

Well, even then ! Our gate into the yard is locked on the 
inside, the garden side ; she would knock and knock 
and then go away. And in the morning we'd declare 
we'd been sound asleep and heard nothing. Besides, 
Glasha's on the lookout ; the faintest sound, she'd let 
us know in a minute. One can't do anything without 
some risk ! No, indeed ! the only thing is to mind 
what one's about and not get into a scrape. {Kudri- 
ash strikes a few cords on the guitar. Varvara leans 
on the shoulder of Kudriash who plays softly, paying 
no attention to her. Varvara yawning) How could 
we find out what time it is ? 



Kudriash. 
Varvara. 



It's one o'clock. 

How do you know ? 

Kudriash. 

A watchman struck one blow on his board just now. 

82 



act in. sc. ix. THE STORM 

Varvara {yawning). 
It's late. Shout to them ! We'll get out earlier to- 
morrow, so as to have longer. 

Kudriash {gives a whistle and then sings loudly) 

They're all going home ! 
They're all going home ! 
But I won't go home ! 

Boris {behind the scenes). 
I hear ! 

Varvara {gets up). 

Well, good-bye ! {yawns, then gives a cool kiss to 
Kudriash, as if he were an old and very intimate 
friend). To-morrow mind you come earlier ! {Looks 
in the direction in which Boris and Katerina went 
away) You've said good-bye enough, you're not 
parting for ever, you'll see each other to-morrow 
{yawns and stretches, Katerina hurries in, followed 
by Boris). 

Scene IX 
Kudriash, Varvara, Boris and Katerina. 

Katerina. 

Come, let us go now, let us go ! {They go up the path, 
Katerina turns round). Good-bye ! 

Boris. 
Till to-morrow. 

Katerina. 

Yes, to-morrow ! Tell me what you dream to-night ! 

[The girls reach the gate. 
83 



Yes, yes. 



THE STORM act iv. sc. i. 

Boris. 

Kudriash (sings and plays guitar) 

Come out, lassie, while you may 
Till the glow of setting day ! 
Ai-lalee, while you may, 
Till the glow of setting day ! 

Varvara (at the gate). 

Aye, my laddie, while I may, 
Till the glow of break of day ! 
Ai-lalee, while I may, 
Till the glow of break of day ! 

Kudriash. 

When the sun has risen fair 

And I may not linger mair. [Exit singing. 



ACT IV 

SCEXE I 

In the foreground a narrow arcade running round an old 
building which has begun to fall into decay ; bushes and 
grass about it ; in the background the banks of the Volga 
and view beyond it. 

(Several Persons of both Sexes approach the Arcade.) 

First. 

It's spotting with rain, seems as though it might be a 
storm coming on. 

84 



act iv. so. i. THE STORM 

Second. 
Look, it's gathering yonder. 

First. 

A good thing we've somewhere to take shelter. 

[They all go under the arches, 

A Woman. 

What a lot of folks out on the parade, too! To-day 
being a holiday, everyone's out walking. The 
merchants' ladies all pranked out in their best. 

First. 
They'll stand up somewhere out of the rain. 

Second. 
Look, at the people hurrying this way now ! 

First (staring round at the walls). 

I say, old fellow, it must have been covered with paintings 
once, do you know. One can make them out even 
now, here and there. 

Second. 

To be sure ! Of course the walls were covered with 
paintings. Now it's all been let go to rack and ruin, 
and the old place is falling to pieces. There's been 
nothing done to it since the fire. But to be sure you 
don't remember that fire, it will be forty years ago. 

First. 

Whatever's this picture here, old fellow ? It's not easy to 
make out what it's about. 
85 



THE STORM act iv. sc. l 

Second. 
That's a picture of the torments of hell. 

First. 
Oh ! so that's what it is ! 

Second. 

And there's folks of all sorts and conditions going down 
into the fire, see ? 

First. 
To be sure, yes, I understand it now. 

Second. 
Of every sort and rank. 

First. 
And niggers too ? 

Second. 
Yes, niggers too. 

First. 

And I say, old fellow, what's this ? 

Second. 

That's the Lithuanian invasion. A battle, d'ye see ? Our 
men fighting with the men of Lithuania. 

First. 
Who were these Lithuanians ? 

Second. 

Can't say. Lithuanians, to be sure. 

86 



act iv. sc. ii. THE STORM 

First. 

But they do say, you know, they fell down on us from 
heaven. 

Second. 

I can't tell about that, I daresay they did. 
A Woman. 

What ignorance ! Why, everyone knows the Lithuanians 
fell from heaven. Well to be sure! and it was in 
memory of the battle with them that these mounds 
were made. 

First. 

There, old fellow ! That's so, you see ! 

[Enter Dikoy and Kuligin, his head bare. All 
the bystanders bow and assume a respectful air 
on seeing Dikoy. 

Scene II 
The Same, Dikoy and Kuligin. 

Dikoy. 

Ugh, I'm wet through. (To Kuligin) Get away from 
me ! Let me alone ! (Angrily) Fool of a man ! 

Kuligin. 

Saviol Prokofitch, it would be conferring a benefit, your 
worship, on all the residents in the town. 

Dikoy. 

Go along ! A mighty benefit ! Who wants such a 
benefit ? 

87 



THE STORM act iv. sc. n. 

KtTLIGIN. 

And on you, indeed, your worship, Saviol Prokofitch. To 
be set up, for instance, on the parade in the open 
space. And as for expense, — the expense would be 
trifling : a stone column (indicates the size of each 
thing by gestures), a copper disc, round like this, and 
a pivot, an upright pivot (shoivs, gesticulating) of 
the simplest description. I will put it all up and 
carve the figures on the face myself too. And, your 
worship, when you are pleased to take a walk, or 
any other people are out walking, you will go up 
to it, and see at once what o'clock it is. As it is, 
it's a fine position and a fine view and all, but, as 
it were, it wants something. And we have visitors 
too, your worship, who come here to see our views, 
and it will always be an ornament, — a pleasant 
object for the eye to rest on. 

Dikoy. 

But why on earth do you come pestering me with every 
sort of idiocy ? It's possible, don't you see, that I 
don't want to talk to you. You ought first to 
ascertain whether I am disposed to listen to you 
or not, you dolt. What am I to you ? ... am I 
your equal, eh? Damn the fellow! A mighty 
clever idea he's hit upon ! And then up he must 
come and straightway start holding forth upon it. 

Kuligin. 

If I were about my own business, I should be to blame 
certainly. But I am speaking in the public interest, 
your worship. And it's no great matter spending 
88 



act iv. sc. ii. THE STORM 

about a pound on a public object ! More than that 
would not be needed, sir. 

Dikoy. 

I daresay you'd like to pocket the money ; who knows 
anything of you ? 

Kuligin. 

Seeing that I want to give my services for nothing, your 
worship, how could I pocket anything ? And every- 
one knows me here ; no one can say any harm of 
me. 

Dikoy. 

They may know you, for all I care, but I don't want to 
know you. 

Kuligin. 

Why insult an honest man, sir ? 

Dikoy. 

Am I to account to you for what I say or do ? Let me 
tell you I allow no one to criticise my actions — no, 
not folks of far more consequence than you. I shall 
think of you as I choose to think of you. Others 
may say you're an honest man, but I look upon you 
as a brigand, and that's all about it. You seem 
anxious to hear my opinion, so here it is! I say 
you're a brigand, and nothing else ! Do you want to 
have the law of me, hey ? Very well then, let me 
tell you you're a worm. If I choose, I spare you ; if 
I choose, I can trample you under foot ! 

Kuligin. 
So be it, Saviol Prokofitch ! I am only a poor man, 

89 



THE STORM act iv. sc. ii. 

sir, it costs little to be rude to me. But let me 
remind you, your honour, virtue is honourable even 
in rags ! 

Dikoy. 

None of your insolence now ! Mind that ! 

Kuligix. 

I am not being insolent to you in any way, sir, and I 
merely addressed you because I thought you might 
have a mind to do something for the town sometime. 
You have a great deal of power, your worship, if 
only you had the wish to do some good. Now, for 
instance, we've storms so often, and yet we don't 
put up lightning conductors. 

Dikoy {haughtily). 
It's all vanity ! 

Kuligix. 

How can it be vanity when experiments have been made. 

Dikoy. 
What sort of lightning conductors are you talking about ? 

Kuligix. 

Steel ones. 

Dikoy (wrathfully). 

Well, and what then ? 

Kuligix. 
Steel rods. 

Dikoy (getting more and more furious). 

I hear they're steel rods, you viper, but what of it? 
Granted they're steel rods ! Well, what of it ? 
90 



act iv. sc. ii. THE STORM 

KULIGIN. 

Nothing. 

Dikoy. 

And what is the cause of a storm to your notions, hey ? 
Come, speak up ! 

Kuligin. 
Electricity. 

Dikoy {stamping). 

'Lectricity he says ! Ah, a brigand you are and no mis- 
take ! a storm is sent as a chastisement to make us 
feel our sins, and you want with rods and tackle of 
one sort and another, God forgive you, to ward it 
off! What, are you a Tartar or what? Are you a 
Tartar ? Speak up ! A Tartar, hey ? 

KULIGIN. 

Saviol Prokofitch, your honour, Derzhavin said : 
In body, I languish in the dust, 
In mind, I command the tempest. 

Dikoy. 

For such words you ought to be led off to the police 
captain, he'd give it to you ! Just listen, worthy 
citizens, what the fellow is saying ! 

Kuligin. 

There's no help for it, I must submit ! But when I have 
made my fortune, then you'll see how I'll talk ! 

[ With a ivave of his hand goes out. 

Dikoy. 

What! are you going to steal a fortune? Stop him! 

91 



THE STORM act iv. sc. hi. 

The false scoundrel ! How ever is one to treat such 
people ! I don't know. ( Turning to the crowd) 
And you, damned rascals, you're enough to make 
anyone swear ! Here I'd no wish to lose my temper, 
and he must needs go and put me out, as if it were 
on purpose. Curse the fellow ! {angrily) Has the 
rain given over, eh ? 

First. 
I fancy it has. 

Dikoy. 

You fancy ! go and see, you fool. Tell me, you fancy, 
indeed ! 

First (going outside the arches). 

It has left off! 

[Dikoy goes out and all follow him. TJie scene is 
empty for a little while. Varvara runs quickly 
in under the arcade and, hiding herself, peeps 
out. 

Scene III 
Varvara and later Boris. 

Varvara. 

I believe it's he ! (Boris advances from the background 
of the scene.) Sss-sss ! (Boris looks round.) Come 
here. (She beckons, Boris goes up to her.) What 
are we to do with Katerina ? For mercy's sake tell 
me ! 

Boris. 
Why, what is it ? 

92 



act iv. sc. in. THE STORM 

Varvara. 

It's terrible, that's all. Her husband has come back, do 
you know that? We didn't expect him, but he's 
here. 

Boris. 
No, I didn't know it. 

Varvara. 
She's simply beside herself. 

Boris. 

It seems as if I had only lived for these ten short days 
that he has been away. And now not to see her ! 

Varvara. 

Oh, I've no patience with you! I've something to tell 
you ! She's shaking all over, as if she were in a 
fever. She's so pale, she wanders about the house, 
as though she were looking for something. Her 
eyes are wild, she's like a mad thing ! She began 
crying long ago in the morning, she simply sobs. 
Merciful Heavens, what am I to do with her ? 

Boris. 
But perhaps this will pass off. 

Varvara. 

I doubt it. She daren't raise her eyes to her husband. 
Mamma's begun to notice it, and she follows her 
about and keeps a suspicious eye upon her. She 
looks daggers at her ; and that makes her worse than 
ever. It makes one wretched to see her. And I'm 
afraid too. 

93 



THE STORM act iv. sc. hi. 

Boris. 
What are you afraid of? 

Varvara. 

You don't know her. She's a strange creature. One 
never knows what to expect from her ! She will do 
things . . . 

Boris. 

My God! What's to be done? You must talk to her 
thoroughly. Can't you manage to soothe her ? 

Varvara. 

I've tried. She doesn't even hear. Better leave her 
alone. 

Boris. 

Well, what do you suppose she may do ? 

Varvara. 

Why, simply this : fling herself down at her husband's 
feet, and tell him everything. That's what I'm 
afraid of. 

Boris (with horror). 

Could she possibly ! 

Varvara. 
She may do anything. 

Boris. 
Where is she now ? 

Varvara. 

At this moment she's out on the parade with her husband, 
and my mother's with them too. You go and meet 
them, if you like. But no, you'd better not go, or 
94 



act iv. so. iv. THE STORM 

she'll very likely lose her head completely. (A peal 
of thunder in the distance) Isn't that thunder? (Looks 
out) Yes, it's raining too. And here are people 
coming this way. Get somewhere out of sight, and 
I'll stand here where I can be seen, so that they 
won't notice anything. (Enter several persons of 
both sexes and different classes.) 

Scene IV 

Varvara and various persons, and later, Mme. Kaba- 
nova, Kabanov, Katerina and Kuligin. 

First. 

The good lady seems awfully frightened by the way she's 
hurrying for shelter. 

A Woman. 

No use seeking shelter ! If it's written in the book of 
fate, there's no escaping ! 

Katerina (running in). 
Ah, Varvara ! (Seizes her hand and holds it tight.) 

Varvara. 
Come, be quiet ! 

Katerina. 
It will be my death ! 

Varvara. 

Come, come ! Pull yourself together ! 

Katerina. 
No ! I can't. I can do nothing. My heart aches so. 

95 



THE STORM act iv. sc. iv. 

Mme. Kabaxova (entering). 

Let me tell you, one should live so as to be always ready 
for anything. You would not be in such terror then. 

Kabaxov. 

But what sins in special has she to frighten her, mamma ? 
Her sins are no more than all of us have to repent ; 
being afraid of storms is a matter of temperament. 

Mme. Kabaxova. 
How do you know, pray? The heart of another is darkness. 

Kabaxov (jestingly). 

Oh well, maybe, something very wicked while I was 
away ; certainly when I've been here she never did 
anything bad. 

Mme. Kabaxova. 

Maybe, when you were away, then. 

Kabaxov (jesting). 

Katia, my girl, you'd better repent, if you've been sinful 
in any way. You can't have secrets from me, you 
know ; no, you naughty girl, I know all about it. 

Katerixa (looks him straight in the face). 

Dear Tihon ! 

Varvara. 

Come, why do you keep teazing her ? Can't you see she's 
not well ? 
[Boris steps out of the crowd and bows to the Kabanovs. 

96 



act iv. sc. iv. THE STORM 

Katerina (shrieks). 
Ah! 

Kabanov. 

What are you frightened of? Did you think it was a 
stranger ? This is a friend ! Is your uncle quite 
well? 

Boris. 

Quite, thank you. 

Katerina (to Varvara). 

What more does he want of me? . . . Isn't it enough 
that I am in torture like this. 

[Leans against Varvara, sobs. 

Varvara (aloud, so that her mother should hear). 

We're simply tired out, and don't know what to do with 
her ; and now outsiders must come up too ! 
[Gives Boris a sign and he walks away to the 
entrance of the arcade. 

Kuligin (coming into the middle of the scene and address- 
ing the crowd). 

Why, what are you afraid of, I should like to know ! every 
blade of grass, every flower is rejoicing now, while 
we try to get away and are as frightened as if it were 
a disaster ! The storm kill us indeed ! It's not a 
storm to be dreaded, it's a blessing ! Yes, a blessing ! 
Everything's dreadful to you. If the Northern Lights 
shine in the heavens — you ought to admire and marvel 
at " the dawn breaking in the land of midnight ! " 
But you are in terror, and imagine it means war or 
g 97 



THE STORM act iv. so. v. 

flood. If a comet comes — I can't take my eyes from 
it ! a thing so beautiful ! the stars we have looked 
upon to our hearts' content, they are always with us, 
but that is something new ; well, one must gaze and 
admire ! But you're afraid even to look at the sky, 
and all in a tremble ! You make a bogey out of 
everything. Ah, what a people ! I'm not afraid, 
you see. Come, sir, let's go on ! 

Boris. 
Yes, let us go ! it's more terrible here ! [Goes. 

Scene V 
The Same, without Boris and Kuligin. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Well, that's a pretty sermon he gave us! Something 
worth hearing, and no mistake! What have the 
times come to, when such as he turn teacher ! If an 
old man talks so, what can we expect from the young 
ones ! 

A Woman. 

The whole sky's overcast. It's covered up all over, as it 
were, with a cap. 

First. 

Eh, mate, see how the storm cloud is rolling into a ball, 
as though there were something alive turning round 
in it. And see how it's creeping up towards us, 
creeping like a live thing ! 
98 



act iv. sc. v. THE STORM 

Second. 

Mark my words, that storm's not coming up for nothing. 
It's the truth I tell you ; I know. It'll strike some- 
one dead, or set fire to a house ; you'll see, look what 
an extraordinary colour ! 

Katerina (listening). 

What are they saying ? They say someone will be struck 
dead. 

Kabanov. 

You know what stuff they talk, any nonsense that comes 
into their heads. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Don't you criticise your elders ! They know better than 
you. Old people have forewarnings of all sorts. Old 
people don't talk at random. 

Katerina (to her husband). 
Dear Tihon, I know who will be struck dead. 

Varvara (to Katerina, softly). 
If only you would hold your tongue ! 

Kabanov. 
How do you know ? 

Katerina. 

It will strike me. Pray for me, then. 

[Enter Old Lady with footmen. Katerina with a 
shriek hides her face. 
99 



THE STORM act iv. sc. vi. 

Scene VI 
The Same and the Old Lady. 

The Old Lady. 

Why hide your face ? It's no use hiding ! One can see 
you're afraid. You've no wish to die ! She wants 
to live ! To be sure she does ! — look what a beauty ! 
Ha, ha, ha ! Beauty ! Better pray to God to take 
away your beauty! It's beauty that is our ruin! 
Ruin to yourself, a snare to others, so rejoice in your 
beauty if you will ! Many, many, you lead into sin ! 
Giddy fellows fight duels over you, slash each other 
with swords for your sake. And you are glad ! Old 
men, honourable men, forget that they must die, 
tempted by beauty ! And who has to answer for all. 
Better go down into the abyss with your beauty! 
Yes, quick, quick. (Katerina hides herself.) Where 
will you hide away, foolish one ! There's no escaping 
God ! (A clap of thunder.) All of you will burn in 
fire unquenchable ! [Exit. 

Katerina. 
Ah, I am dying ! 

Varvara. 

Why do you torture yourself like this ! Stand on one side 
and pray ; you will feel better. 

Katerina (goes to the wall and drops on her knees, then 
jumps up quickly, seeing the picture on the wall). 

Ah ! Hell ! Hell ! The fire unquenchable ! (Mme. 
Kabanova, Kabanov, and Varvara surround her.) 
100 



act iv. sc. vi. THE STORM 

My heart is torn! I can bear it no longer! 
Mother! Tihon! I have sinned against God and 
against you ! Did I not swear to you I would not 
set eyes on anyone when you were away! You 
remember ! you remember ! And do you know 
what I have done in my sinfulness ? The first 
night I went out of the house . . . 

Kabanov (in despair, in tears, pulls at her sleeve). 

You mustn't, you mustn't ! don't ! What are you saying ? 
Mother is here ! 

Mme. Kabanova (severely). 
Come, come, speak, now you have begun. 

Katerina. 

And every night the same . . . (sobs, Kabanov tries to 
embrace her). 

Mme. Kabanova. 
Let her be ! With whom ? 

Varvara. 
She's raving, she doesn't know what she is saying. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

You be quiet ! So this is the meaning of it ! Well, with 
whom? 

Katerina. 

With Boris Grigoritch. (A clap of thunder.) Ah ! 

[Falls unconscious in her husband's arms. 
101 



THE STORM act v. sc. i. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Well, son ! You see what freedom leads to ! I told you 
so, but you wouldn't heed me. See what you've 
brought on yourself! 



ACT Y 

Scene I 

Scene same as Act I. Twilight. 

Ktjligin {sitting on a bench). 
Kabanov {walking along the 2>arade). 

Ktjligin (sings). 

" In dark of night are hid the skies 
In sleep now all have closed their eyes." 

(seeing Kabanov) Good-evening, sir, are you walking far ? 

Kabanov. 

No, I am going home. You have heard talk, I expect, 
about us ? The whole household's upside down. 

Ktjligin. 
I have heard so, sir, yes, I have heard so. 

Kabanov. 

I went away to Moscow, you know. Mamma sent me off 
with a sermon, oh, such a sermon, but as soon as I 
was well away, I went in for enjoying myself. I 
102 



act v. so. i. THE STORM 

was glad to have escaped into freedom. And I was 
drinking all the journey, and in Moscow too I kept 
it up, and had a jolly time — as you may fancy ! Of 
course I'd to get in fun enough to last me the whole 
year. I never once thought about home. Though, 
if I had thought of it, I never should have dreamed 
of what was going on here. You've heard about it ? 

Kuligin. 
Yes, sir. 

Kabanov. 

I'm a miserable man now ! And so, for nothing, my life's 
spoiled, for nothing I have done. 

Kuligin. 
Your mother is terribly hard. 

Kabanov. 

Yes, indeed, she's the cause of it all. And what am I 
suffering for, tell me that? Here I've just come 
from Dikoy's, and well, we drank a bit ; I thought 
it would drown care ; but it has only made me 
worse, Kuligin ! Ah, the wrong my wife has done 
me ! It couldn't be worse. . . . 

Kuligin. 

It's a difficult business, sir. It's difficult to judge between 
you. 

Kabanov. 

No ; nothing could be worse than what she's done ! It 
wouldn't be much to kill her for it. There's mamma 
keeps saying : she ought to be buried alive to punish 
103 



THE STORM act v. sc. l 

her J But I love her, I can't bear to lay a finger on 
her. I did give her a blow or two, but that was at 
mamma's bidding. It makes one wretched to see 
her, do you understand that, Kuligin. Mamma's 
just tormenting her to death, while she wanders 
about like a shadow, and makes no resistance. She 
only weeps, and she's wasting away like wax. It's 
simply breaking my heart to see her. 

Kuligin. 

You must make it up somehow, sir ! You ought to 
forgive her, and never refer to it again. You are 
not without sin yourself, I daresay ! 

Kabanov. 
I should think not ! 

Kuligin. 

And you must never reproach her even when you're 
drunk ! She would be a good wife to you yet, sir, 
better than any — believe me. 

Kabanov. 

But understand me, Kuligin ; I'd never say a word, but 
mamma ... do you suppose one can get over 
her ! . . . 

Kuligin. 

It's time you were guided, sir, by your own good sense, 
sir. 

Kabanov. 

My own good sense ! I've got none, I'm told, and so I'm 
to live by other people's ! I declare I'll drink away 
whatever sense I have left, and then mamma can 
104 



act v. sc. i. THE STORM 

look after me as much as she likes, when I'm 
crazy. 

Kuligin. 

Ah sir ! there's a world of troubles ! But, Boris Grigoritch, 
sir, what of him ? 

Kabanov. 

Oh, he, the scoundrel, is being sent off to Tiahta, to the 
Chinese. His uncle's sending him off to a merchant 
he knows there. He's to be there three years. 

Kuligin. 
Well, what does he say to it, sir ? 

Kabanov. 

Oh, he's wretched too ; he weeps. His uncle and I, we 
set upon him not long ago, we swore at him — he 
didn't say a word. He seems like a wild thing. Do 
what you like to me, says he, only don't torment her ! 
He's sorry for her too. 

Kuligin. 
He's a good fellow, sir. 

Kabanov. 

He's packed up and ready, and the horses are ordered. 
He's so wretched, it's awful ! I can see he wants to 
say good-bye to her. But that's too much! I 
can't have it. He's been an enemy to me, you know, 
Kuligin ! He ought to be thrashed within an inch 
of his life to teach him . . . 

Kuligin. 
We must forgive our enemies, sir ! 

105 



THE STORM act v. sc. l 

Kabanov. 

You go and tell that to mamma, and see what she'll say 
to it. So, brother Kuligin, all our family is now 
split up and divided. We're not like relations but 
enemies to one another. Mamma kept nagging and 
nagging at Varvara ; she couldn't stand it, and she 
soon made an end of it — she's simply gone away. 

Kuligin. 

Where has she gone ? 

Kabanov. 

No one knows. They do say she's run off with Vania 
Kudriash, and he can't be found anywhere either. 
It's all mamma's doing. I'll tell you frankly, Kuligin : 
she had started bullying her and locking her up. 
"Don't shut me up," she said, "or it will be the 
worse," and so it has turned out. What am I to 
do, tell me that ! Tell me how I am to live now ! 
My home is made loathsome to me, I'm put to shame 
before everyone, if I set about anything my hands 
drop listless and dejected. Here I'm on my way 
home now. Shall I find any happiness there, do you 
suppose ? [Enter Glasha, 

Glasha. 

Master, Tihon Ivanitch ! 

Kabanov. 
What is it now ? 

Glasha. 

There's something wrong at home, sir ! 

106 



act v. sc. i. THE STORM 

Kabanov. 

Mercy on us ! It's one thing on top of another ! Tell 
me, what is it ? 

Glasha. 
Why, your good lady . . . 

Kabanov. 
Well, what ? Is she dead ? 

Glasha. 
No, sir, she has disappeared ; we can't find her anywhere. 

Kabanov. 

Kuligin ! we must run and search for her. Do you know 
what I am afraid of? That she may be driven in 
her misery to lay hands on herself! She grieves and 
grieves, — ah, God ! It rends my heart to see her. 
What were you thinking of? Has she been gone 
long? 

Glasha. 

No, sir, not long ! It's we're to blame, of course ; we 
didn't keep an eye on her every minute. Though it's 
true, to be sure, the most watchful will be caught 
napping sooner or later. 

Kabanov. 

Well, don't stand there doing nothing; bestir yourself! 
{Exit Glasha.) And let us go too, Kuligin ! 
[They go. The stage is empty for a little while. 
From the opposite side, Katerina enters and 
walks slowly about the stage. 
107 



act v. sc. ii. THE STORM 

Scene II 

Katerixa alone. 

[Throughout the whole monologue and in the following 
scenes she speaks slowly and disconnectedly, repeating 
words dreamily and, as it were, in a state of for get- 
fulness. 

Katerina. 

No, no, nowhere ! What is he doing, my poor boy, now ? 
All I want is to say good-bye to him, and then . . . 
and then death. Why did I lead him into trouble. 
It's made it no better for me ! I should have 
suffered alone ! But I have ruined myself, ruined 
him, brought dishonour on myself, — everlasting dis- 
grace on him — yes, — dishonour on myself, and on him 
everlasting disgrace. {Silence.) If I could remember 
what it was he said. How he felt for me ? What 
were the words he said ? {Clutches at her head) I 
can't remember, I have forgotten everything. The 
nights, oh, the nights are a weariness to me ! All 
lie down to sleep, I too lie down ; it is well with all 
of them, but I lie as in my grave. It is fearful in 
the darkness ! There is a sound of singing as at 
some burial ; but so soft, almost out of hearing, far 
away, far from me. . . . How one longs for the 
light ! But I can't bear to get up — the same people 
again, the same talk, the same torture. Why do 
they look at me so ? Why is it they don't kill one 
nowadays ? Why don't they ? In old days, they 
say, they used to kill women. If they would take 
108 



act v. sc. in. THE STORM 

me and throw me into the Volga, I would be glad. 
"If we kill you," they say, "your sin is taken 
from you ; you must live, and suffer for your sin." 
But I have suffered for it already ! Am I to suffer 
much longer ? What have I to live for now, what 
for? I care for nothing, nothing is sweet to me, 
the light of day is not sweet to me ! And still death 
does not come. One calls upon death and death 
comes not. Whatever I look upon, whatever I hear, 
it is nothing but aching here {touching her heart). 
If I could be with him, there might perhaps be 
still some joy for me. . . . Nay, it's all the same, 
my soul is lost now. How sick I am with longing 
for him ! If I cannot see thee, hear me at least from 
far away ! Wild winds, bear my grief and longing 
to him ! My God ! I am weary, I am weary ! {goes 
to the river bank and cries loudly at the top of her 
voice) My sweet, my heart, my soul, I love you! 
Answer ! [Falls a-weeping. Enter Boris. 



Scene III 

Katerina and Boris. 

Boris {not seeing Katerina). 

My God ! It's her voice ! Where is she ? {Looks round.) 

Katerina {runs to him and falls on his neck). 
At last I see you again ! {Weeps on his bosom. Silence.) 

Boris. 
We are weeping together, God has brought us together. 

109 



THE STORM act v. sc. hi. 

Katerina. 
You have not forgotten me ? 

Boris. 
Me forget you ? Don't ! 

Katerina. 
Oh no, oh no ! You're not angry ? 

Boris. 
How could I be angry ? 

Katerina. 
Forgive me, anyway ! I did not mean to harm you ; but 
I was not free myself. I did not know what I was 
doing, what I was saying. 

Boris. 
Oh don't ! how can you ! how can you ! 

Katerina. 
Well, how is it with you ? how are you now ? 

Boris. 
I am going away. 

Katerina. 
Where are you going ? 

Boris. 

Far away, Katia, to Siberia. 

Katerina. 
Take me with you, away from here ! 

Boris. 
I cannot, Katia. I am not going of my own free will ; 

110 



act v. sc. in. THE STORM 

my uncle is sending me, he has the horses waiting for 
me already ; I only begged for a minute, I wanted to 
take a last farewell of the spot where we used to see 
each other. 

Katerina. 

Go and God be with you ! Don't grieve over me. At 
first your heart will be heavy perhaps, poor boy, and 
then you will begin to forget. 

Boris. 

Why talk of me ! I am free at least ; how about you ? 
what of your husband's mother ? 

Katerina. 

She tortures me, she locks me up. She tells everyone and 
tells my husband : " don't trust her, she's sly and 
deceitful." They all follow me about all day long 
and laugh at me before my face. At every word they 
reproach me with you. 

Boris. 
And your husband ? 

Katerina. 

One minute he's kind, one minute he's angry, but he's 
drinking all the while. He is loathsome to me, 
loathsome ; his kindness is worse than his blows. 

Boris. 
You are wretched, Katia ? 

Katerina. 
So wretched, so wretched, that it were better to die ! 

Ill 



THE STORM act v. sc. in. 

Boris. 

Who could have dreamed that we should have to suffer 
such anguish for our love! I'd better have run 
away then ! 

Katerina. 

It was an evil day for me when I saw you. Joy I have 
known little of, but of sorrow, of sorrow, how much ! 
And how much is still before me ! But why think 
of what is to be ! I am seeing you now, that they 
cannot take away from me ; and I care for nothing 
more. All I wanted was to see you. Now my heart 
is much easier ; as though a load had been taken off 
me. I kept thinking you were angry with me, that 
you were cursing me. . . . 

Boris. 
How can you ! How can you ! 

Katerina. 

No, that's not what I mean ; that's not what I wanted to 
say ! I was sick with longing for you, that's it ; and 
now, I have seen you. . . . 

Boris. 
They must not come upon us here ! 

Katerina. 

Stay a minute ! Stay a minute ! Something I meant to 
say to you ! I've forgotten ! Something I had to 
say ! Everything is in confusion in my head, I can 
remember nothing. 

112 



act v. so. in. THE STOBM 

Boris. 
It's time I went, Katia ! 

Katerina. 
Wait a minute, a minute ! 

Boris. 
Come, what did you want to say ? 

Katerina. 

I will tell you directly. {Thinking a moment.) Yes ! 
As you travel along the highroads, do not miss over 
one beggar, give to everyone, and bid them pray for 
my sinful soul. 

Boris. 

Ah, if these people knew what it is to me to part from 
you ! My God ! God grant they may one day 
know such bitterness as I know now. Farewell, 
Katia! (embraces her and tries to go away). Mis- 
creants ! monsters ! Ah, if I were strong ! 

Katerina. 

Stay, stay! Let me look at you for the last time 
(gazes into his face). Now all's over with me. 
The end is come for me. Now, God be with thee. 
Go, go quickly ! 

Boris (moves away a few steps and stands still). 

Katia, I feel a dread of something ! You have something 
fearful in your mind ? I shall be in torture as I go, 
thinking of you. 
h 113 



THE STORM act v. sc. iv. 

Katerina. 

No, no ! Go in God's name ! (Boris is about to go up 
to her.) No, no, enough. 

Boris (sobbing). 

God be with thee ! There's only one thing to pray God 
for, that she may soon be dead, that she may not be 
tortured long ! Farewell ! 

Katerina. 
Farewell ! 

[Boris goes out Katerina follows him with her eyes 
and stands for some time, lost in thought. 

Scene IV 

Katerina (alone). 

Where am I going now ? Home ? No, home or the 
grave — it's the same. Yes, home or the grave ! . . . 
the grave ! Better the grave. ... A little grave 
under a tree . . . how sweet. . . . The sunshine 
warms it, the sweet rain falls on it . . . in the spring 
the grass grows on it, soft and sweet grass . . . the 
birds will fly in the tree and sing, and bring up their 
little ones, and flowers will bloom ; golden, red and 
blue ... all sorts of flowers, (dreamily) all sorts of 
flowers . . . how still ! how sweet ! My heart's as 
it were lighter ! But of life I don't want to think ! 
Live again ! No, no, no use . . . life is not good ! 
. . . And people are hateful to me, and the house is 
hateful, and the walls are hateful ! I will not go 
there ! No, no, I will not go ! If I go to them, 
114 



act v. sc. v. THE STORM 

they'll come and talk, and what do I want with 
that ? Ah, it has grown dark ! And there is sing- 
ing again somewhere ! What are they singing ? I 
can't make out. ... To die now. . . . What are 
they singing ? It is just the same whether death 
comes, or of myself . . . but live I cannot ! A sin 
to die so ! . . . they won't pray for me ! If anyone 
loves me he will pray . , . they will fold my arms 
crossed in the grave ! Oh yes. ... I remember. 
But when they catch me, and take me home by 
force. . . . Ah, quickly, quickly ! (Goes to the river 
bank. Aloud) My dear one ! My sweet ! Fare- 
well ! [Exit. 
[Enter Mme. Kabanova, Kabanov, Kuligin and 
workmen ivith torches. 



Scene V 

Mme. Kabanova, Kabanov and Kuligin. 

Kuligin. 
They say she was seen here. 

Kabanov. 
Is it certain ? 

Kuligin. 

They say they saw her. 

Kabanov. 

Thank God, if she has been seen alive. 

115 



THE STORM act v. sc. v. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

And you in such a fright already and crying over it! 
There's no need. She's not worth fretting about ! 
Don't worry yourself, we shall have our hands full 
with her for many a long year yet. 

Kabanov. 

Who would have dreamed of her coming here ! A place 
so frequented. No one would ever think of hiding 
here. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

That's just her way ! The shameless hussy ! She wants 
to keep up her character, it seems ! 
[A crowd with torches collects, coming in from 
different directions. 

One of the Crowd. 
Well, is she found ? 

Mme. Kabanova. 
It seems not. She seems to have vanished into the earth. 

Several Voices. 

How strange ! It's a queer thing. And where could she 
hide? 

One of the Crowd. 

Oh, she'll be found ! 

A Second. 

Of course she'll be found ! 

116 



act v. sc. vi. THE STORM 

A THIRD. 

To be sure, she'll come back of herself. 

[A voice behind the scene : " Hi, boat there ! " 

Kulicin (from the bank). 

Who's calling ? What is it ? 

[The voice: "A woman's thrown herself into the 
water ! " Kuligin and several men after him 
run out. 

Scene VI 
Mme. Kabanova, and Kabanov and Crowd. 

Kabanov. 

Merciful Heavens, it is she ! (tries to run off. Mme. 
Kabanova holds his arm) Mamma, let me go ! I 
will save her ! or I too. . . . What can I do without 
her! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

I'm not going to let you go, and don't you suppose it ! 
Kill yourself on her account ; she's worth that, isn't 
she? As if she'd not brought disgrace enough on 
us already, to plot to do a thing like this too ! 

Kabanov. 
Let me go ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

There are plenty to help without you. I'll curse you if 
you go. 

Kabanov (falling on his knees). 
Oh, to look upon her at least ! 

117 



THE STORM act v. sc. vi. 

Mme. Kabanova. 

They'll pull her out — you'll look upon her, right enough. 

Kabanov (gets up. To the crowd). 
Well, my lads, do you see anything ? 

One of the Crowd. 

It's dark down below, there's nothing in sight. 

[A noise behind the scene. 

A Second. 

They seemed to be shouting something, but I couldn't 
make out what. 

The First. 
That's Kuligin's voice. 

The Second. 
They're coming along the bank with torches. 

The First. 

They're coming this way, and they're carrying her. 

[Several people come back. 

One of those who have come back. 

That Kuligin's a brave fellow ! It was close here in a 
deep pool, near the bank ; with the torchlight we 
could see a long way off in the water ; he saw her 
dress and pulled her out. 

Kabanov. 
Alive ? 

The Man. 

How could she be alive ? She had thrown herself from 

118 



act v. sc. vii. THE STORM 

the height; the bank is steep there, and she must 
have fallen upon the anchor, she was so injured, 
poor thing ! But she looks as though she were 
alive ! Only one little wound on the temple, and 
one single stain of blood on it. 
[Kabanov runs across the scene, meets Kuligin 
with the croivd, carrying in Katerina. 



Scene VII 

The Same and Kuligin. 

Kuligin. 

Here is your Katerina. You may do what you like with 
her. Her body is here, take it ; but her soul is not 
yours now; she is before a Judge more merciful 
than you are, now ! 

[Lays her on the ground and exit. 

Kabanov (rushes to Katerina). 

Katia! Katia! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Hush ! It's a sin even to weep for her ! 

Kabanov. 
Mother, you have murdered her ! you ! you ! you ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

What do you mean ? Think what you're saying ! You 
forget whom you're speaking to ! 
119 



THE STORM act v. so. vii. 

Kabanov. 

You have murdered her ! you ! you ! 

Mme. Kabanova. 

Come, I'll talk to you at home. (Boivs low to the assem- 
bled people) I thank you, good people, for your 
services ! [All bow low. 

Kabanov. 

It is well with you, Katia ! But why am I left to live 
and suffer ! [Falls on his wife's body. 



TUKNBULL AND SVEAKS, PRINT EIIS, EDINBURGH. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



002 525 639 6 • 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



002 525 639 6 



